


Little Hero

by Vic_Kama



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Peter Parker, Gen, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Peter Parker-centric, Secret Identity, The avengers are doing what they think is right, Wade is a Good Bro, Young Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 09:51:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15116894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vic_Kama/pseuds/Vic_Kama
Summary: When Peter was 12, he was bitten by a redioactive spider and starts to develop his powers. He wants to help people and becomes a vigilante named Spider-Man when his Uncle dies. The young Spider met and fought side by side with other Heroes and formed a friendship with Deadpool. After he became popular with the public, the Avengers were ordered by SHIELD to find out his identity and bring him in for questioning. This doesn't sit too well with him. What will the Avengers do when they find out that they've been chasing a 14 year old?





	1. Changes

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I read a lot of very good Spider-Man stories and wanted to write one too. Hope it comes out okey and that I can keep it up. Enjoy!

Peter Parker’s parents died in a plane crash when he was about six years old. As a result he was sent to live with my aunt and uncle. He don’t miss them terribly but he thought that that’s only because of how little he remember them. All he could recall about them is his mother’s sweet smile and his father’s kind brown eyes. His eyes.

It took a while to get use to living with May and Ben, the first few years were really hard. For both of them. Peter just couldn’t see them as parents and thought that he was a burden to them because he wasn’t their son and they didn’t ask for him to be there. They had eventually convinced him that that was not true.

Uncle Ben had done everything in his power to make him feel welcome and loved him like he was his own son. May had been weird around him at first but quickly accepted him into their family.

The happiest times in his life had been with them.

Their picnics in Central Park. Uncle Ben teaching him how to ride a bike. Enjoying Aunt May’s burnt casserole. Helping her set up a surprise party for Ben’s birthday, and trying and failing to make a cheesecake on his own. Getting praised for he’s above average grades. Watching their favourite sitcoms together and singing their theme-songs out loud. Observing how Ben tried to fix the sink pipes.

Of course, the good times didn’t last forever.

* * *

 

He had always been at the top of his grade and ahead of his peers. The teachers in his school said that he was like a little sponge, always absorbing information.

When he started loosing interest in the classwork because he didn’t find it challenging enough, he went to his uncle and proposed that he could skip a few grades. Ben wasn’t too trilled with the idea and said he could easily go in over his head, but eventually agreed.

His social life suffered, but that didn’t matter to him much. Its not like he had any great friends in his age group to begin with. The only one who was sad to see him go was this one teacher (Ms Alma) that seemed to be extra fond of him, but she had encourage him to go. “There’s nothing you’ll learn over hear anymore, Peter,” she had said before giving him the most inspiring smile he had ever seen.

Even though he tried to keep a low profile in his new school (Midtown High), he still stuck out. He was years younger than anyone there and was small for his age. The other students felt like giants next to him, and just as intimidating. To some, he was the perfect target for bullying. Others just couldn’t see themselves socialising with him so he became something to avoid.

Sure, sometimes when he sat by himself at the cafeteria and stared jealous at groups of friends laughing together, he wished he had someone who he could talk to. He bushed those feelings down and concentrated on learning.

When it was announced that they would be going on a field trip to Oscorp Industries he was ecstatic. They were one of the most specialized companies in defence weaponry, only seconded by the Stark Industries, and also genetic enhancements. That last one was always kept under tight straps, but was also the part which Peter was the most excited about.

During the tour they were shown a few of the labs and some of the altered plants and animals they had made. There he remembered feeling a pricking sensation on his neck and turning around to see a red spider running across a wall behind him.

He rubbed his neck and didn’t think anything about it at first. Maybe it had been a common spider that had somehow found its way into the secured lab? Only later, when there was a warning thrill and someone ushered them out of the lab saying that one of the test subjects had broken out, did he begin to panic.

He didn’t say anything. It would have brought too much unnecessary attention on him, more so than there already was. He was a 12 year old who was on a school tour with a bunch of kids who, most, were probably five or more years older than him. He kept his mouth shut. It was most likely just a common spider anyway.

Obviously, he was wrong.

A day later he began to feel weird. His vision was blurry like he was underwater, despite his glasses. His ears went from drowning all the noise out to making them sharp like a knife. The smallest noises like car wheels screeching against the pavement, or a yawn from a person next to him, sounded so LOUD that he wanted to cry. His skin felt like it was on fire and covered in ice at the same time.

When he stumbled out of his room to go to school, his aunt had taken one look at him and dragged him back to bed. Before he could protest, May called the school and informed them that he would not be showing up.

That turned out to be a good thing too because no more than an hour later he got the worst headache he had ever experienced. The pain was excruciating. It felt like his head was splitting open. He didn’t think he could make it to the bathroom to throw up even if he tried. So he just sat there on his bed and endured it somehow, while wrapping himself up in a cocoon of blankets.

The next day nothing went better. In fact, it went worst. An ache spread through his limbs that made them itch, burn and hurt. He thought he was going to die. Even Ben coming to sit beside him, telling him stories and stroking his hair didn’t make him feel better.

By the weekend, the pain subsided but everything was still strange. He went from being almost blind to seeing the signs at the other side of the street when he peeked out of the window. The light outside made him wince. Everything seemed overpowered, not just his vision. He could hear his neighbours talking three floors down and cars honking on the next street. His own breathing seemed too loud.

But that wasn’t even the most bizarre part.

He put his hand on his bedroom wall to steady himself when suddenly he stumbled over. His hand wouldn’t let go of the wall, it felt like it was super-clued there. He started to panic and struggled to get it off, using his other hand to push himself away from the wall, only to have it stuck as well. His arm hairs (had they been this long before?) started twitching.

Then, out of the blue his arms were released and he went flying across the room, only to have his back stick to the other wall covered with his posteres.

He was so scared that he started to tear up. What was happening to him? A part of him had wanted to call his aunt and uncle for help but he had been so scared of their reactions. Maybe they would call him a freak. The rationale part of his mind knew that it was unlikely but he still couldn’t bring himself to yell out for help.

He thought that he was always good at problem solving and he could figure out what was happening. Ms Alma had said that it helped to be calm when trying to find an answer, everyone made terrible decisions when they were panicked.

He took a slow, deep breath and let it out gently. He did it again, and again. Soon he felt his racing heart slow down. Then, no warning at all, he fell down onto the floor.

After that he had regularly started to stick to things if he was stressed or emotional. It took him a while but he had eventually gained control of his 'sticky problem'.

Another thing that he noticed was that he was stronger than before. Like, a lot stronger. He went to take out the trash one morning and usually it took him a lot of effort to drag the big trashcan from the kitchen all the way down the stairs of their apartment complex but now he just picked it up. It took him a second to realise that something was out of the ordinary. Half way down the stairs he realised that he shouldn’t be lifting the can so easily, it felt like nothing in his arms. He opened the lit, thinking it was empty, but no it was completely full.

After that he got curious and just went around lifting random things to see how strong he was. It turned out that he could hold a bike in one hand without any effort, and throw a car wheel like it was a frisbee.

Feeling bolder than before, he wanted to try to see how far his sticking abilities went, too. He found a narrow, quiet alleyway where he thought he was safe from prying eyes. He put both of his hands on the brick wall and concentrated on sticking and just like that, his hands were clued to place.

He felt pretty smug about it, considering that just a few days ago he wouldn’t have been able to do that. After taking a deep breath, he put a foot on the wall and pulled himself up. Immediately after taking his first step, he clung back onto the wall and took a deep breath. He wasn’t falling. He could do this.

One more step. Then another. Then another. He wasn’t falling. Peter felt absolutely giddy with excitement. 'I'm climbing a wall!' he thought, and started going faster. Before he knew it he was on top of the building. He sat down on the edge with his feet dangling down, panting with adrenaline. The sun was setting and giving his surroundings a red and orange glow.

He wanted to do so much more. He was full of energy and felt like he would explode if he didn’t do anything with it. Looking at the surrounding rooftops, he wondered if he could jump that far. If his arm muscles were strong enough to climb up a completely vertical wall and lift thongs even heavier than him, then shouldn’t his leg muscles be stronger as well?

To test that theory, he decided to jump from one side of the roof he was on to the other side. If he could to that than he could hop onto the other buildings with ease. He took a little start run and bushed his legs of the concrete floor with as much force as he could muster. That ended up being a little too much, and he flew far over his desired landing ground and over the edge of the building with a shriek of panic.

He flew towards the opposite building’s wall and landed against it with a splat. Before he could fall down onto the street he stuck himself onto the surface and tried to take deep breaths. His body ached a little at the impact but was nowhere as bad as it should be for someone who slammed into a stone wall like that.

'This is insane, I'm climbing walls like a.. like a spider.’ His mind went back to the Oscorp tour and the spider bite. The more he thought about it the more sure he was that this was the cause of all of this. 'What am I like some sort of a human spider now?' He thought to himself.

When he was finally calm enough, he let out a shaky laugh and climbed onto the rooftop. The teen couldn’t believe how far he had jumped. He tried again. This time he was more calculative and managed to make it to the roof next to him.

That’s how he spend the next few hours, just jumping, climbing and running around. It was better than any amusement park he had ever been to and the rush of it all made him giggle. His senses were over alert and buzzy, he could see, smell and hear everything. He was by no means graceful, his movements were jerky and uncertain but he was catching on quickly.

He was totally spent around midnight and he fell onto his back on top of a high tree's branch in Central Park. Suddenly, he shot up and gasped. He wasn’t allowed to be out without telling Ben and May, never mind this late!

He ran like hell was after him and made it to his apartment in record time. When he dashed up the staircases he had already planed an excuse of falling asleep while studying and a list of apologize, but upon making it into the silent living room he realised that nobody was home. He was confused and tried to think of reasons why the other two occupants of the apartment weren’t there.

The realisation dawned upon him when he found a note in the kitchen table that said:

‘Peter, we decided to go visit a friend of ours and will be back late. If you need anything don’t hesitate to call and don’t stay up too late,  
Ben & May.'

He let out a sight of relief that they hadn’t been there all evening, worrying about him. Too tired to remove them, he jumped onto his bed fully clothed and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.


	2. Losses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, you guys! Hope you like the new chapter.

After that close call he was much more careful. He wouldn’t use his new abilities when others were close by, or remotely in the area, and kept on pretending that nothing happened. That he was still just like them. He didn’t want to be different, to stand out, but right now it there was nothing he could do about it.

He decided that he would have to practice his 'talents' if he didn’t want them to act out when he didn’t want them to. The last Thursday at school he had not been paying attention to his surroundings and accidentally pulled his locker door off when he crabbed it and everyone stared at him. Like he was some strange animal. A freak. He had bolted away from the accusing eyes, a little faster than a normal teen but his brain had mushed up. The only thing running through it was: Have to get away. Away. Away. Don’t let them see. He ran to the nearest deserted bathroom and stayed there until his breathing evened out and his head cleared.

Luckily they assumed that it was some sort of a coincidence and everyone forgot about it in a few days.

So that day on he spend an hour or two a day at the empty alleyways, with his hood pulled up to cover his face, and jumped around. He always made sure that there was nobody around. Unlike the first time, when he had just gotten high from the adrenaline and jumped/climbed around like a monkey, this time he practiced. Finding out his own strength.

He balanced himself on various small objects and soon enough he was agile enough that he could put one of his hands down, pull his legs up and balance on it with ease. He also tried spins, back flips and different tricks he thought he would never be able to do. Those were harder to master but nothing ever came easy, he knew that much.

Admittedly, a part of him was excited. He had superpowers just like most of the Avengers and vigilantes he’d heard about!

Sadly, the fear of disappointment or disgust that could paint his Aunt and Uncles face when they somehow find out about his secret made him be afraid of his powers more than be happy about them.

* * *

 

Peter was in the middle of one of his training sessions, as he liked to call them, when his enhanced hearing picked up a muffled scream and a shuffled sound of footsteps combined with a clink of a trashcan lid falling to the ground.

His upgraded ears always heard something, whether it was a the buzzing of the people or water dripping out of a rain pipe. Always. It was unbearable in school when it was always so noisy. This made sleeping hard because they don’t call New York a city that never sleeps for nothing. He got so sleep deprived in the first week after the bite that he stuffed Bens old motorcycle helmet with polyester from his pillow and put it on for the night. It drowned out most of the noise but not all. He promised to make a better solution for himself soon. He was good at building things. He could do it.

Over time he had gotten better at not listening but during his training sessions he had to, to avoid the people who might be passing by. Even though not much people were at those parts during the day some still lurked here and there. When someone walked towards him he either hid himself, just went so silent and still that didn’t notice him above them (turns out that he could be pretty sneaky if he wanted to) or did the thing that was most preferred by him: run away.

So, like usually when he heard somebody who was too close by for comfort, he was prepared to climb on top of the building and stay there until they left but something stopped him. That scream. Even though it was muffled, it was clear that whoever screamed was terrified.

Peter shifted his form to better look at the direction where the disturbance had come from. Another scream filled his ears. His body moved on its own accord and before he knew it he was crawling across the building and jumped a few walls to get closer to the source of the screams.

The teen found himself in a dark back alley where a middle aged man was pressing a young lady against a wall and grinding himself onto her while holding a sharp knife to her throat. The blond woman was whimpering out of fear and looked to be hyperventilating. “Scream one more time and I'll cut your pretty little throat open,” the man growled out before snatching her chin roughly and pushing their mouths together.

Peter was petrified. May and Ben had told him that there were some very bad people out there that do bad things but seeing it for himself was horrifying. It seemed so surreal to his young mind that a human being would do this to another human being.

Promptly his thoughts snapped into place. He jumped into action and launched himself off the wall towards the two adults. Without any hesitation he landed and picked up a trashcan lid that must have fallen to the ground beside them and smashed it into the guys head. Then grabbing the older man by the vest and send him flying across the alley.

Panting and staring at the limp figure at the ground, he wondered if he had gone a little over the board with the throw. Upon turning his head and seeing the frightened woman eyeing the man’s body with such an intense relief, he decided that he hadn’t. The blond dragged her stare away from the unconscious body to the boy in front of her.

They stared at each other for a minute with equally wide eyed looks. Peter broke the silence. “Are you alright, Ms?” He inquired. That was probably a stupid question. Of course she wasn’t. She was still pressed against the wall with tears running down her dirty face and her hands trembled. Despite this, she still nodded her head shakily. “Thank you,” she breathed out.

“Th-There is no n-need to thank me... Shou-Should I call th-the police?” He asked and tried to keep his words steady but failed.

A tiny twinkle of mirth flashed in her eyes but was gone as soon as it came. She gave a teary laugh. “You’re not from around here are you?” She didn’t even wait for him to nod before continuing. “There is nothing cops will do about guys like him. No one will do anything, trust me, boy.” She sighed sadly at the end.

The blond took a step forward “Go home,” She said and ran. He watched her disappear behind the corner and took off as well.

* * *

 

Later that night, when he had his 'lights out helmet' (as he liked to call it) on, he pondered over her words.

_No one will do anything..._

It was true, wasn’t it? The police couldn’t keep up with all the crime, there was just too much these days. The Avengers only dealt with enormous issues like saving the entire world. They didn’t have time to deal with petty crime.

Maybe he could? He had saved that blond lady with no problem after all. That intense relief in her eyes... What would have happened if he hadn’t been there? He shuttered at the thought. There were probably so many more people out there who needed help. He could, he could help. He wanted to help. Needed to. It would be selfish not to now that he had the power to do so.

But what about Ben and May?

What would they say if they found out about this. He winced. 'They wouldn’t,' he decided. If he had kept it a secret for this long (it had been a month now) with only some minor suspicion from them, then he could keep it going.

This means that he would need a disguise so he wouldn’t be recognised. No one would know it was him.

He immediately took up the challenge. He loved building things after all.

First step first: planning.

It started with sketches and drawings. Most of the vigilantes he had heard about had personally made suits and he thought that that was his best bet. He figured that since his abilities came from a spider then that could be his symbol.

Peter heard that his school’s dance team were throwing out old bodysuits so he snuck into school after dark and grabbed one that fitted him the best. It was still kind of big for him but he figured that he would grow into it, he was still waiting for a growth spurt. He spend a few hours the next day after school silk-screening the web patterns he had decided on onto it in the empty art room. The red and blue made it seem too bright in his opinion so he made the spider that was going to be his logo out of black fabric, and sewed it in the middle of the chest part of the suite. He used a glass cutter to cut out two narrow eye shaped lenses out of a piece of old two-way glass he had lying around.

This was his first suit. He felt proud of it, but he felt that something was missing. What was a spider without webs.

Peter was stuck on that one for almost two weeks but he never gave up easily. He developed a resin based formula for a sticky substance that he started calling Web Fluid. If it was flung onto a wall it would stick to it with ease like bubblegum and be as strong as a rope, able to support his weight and a lot more. One of the best parts about it was that it would dissolve after prolonged contact with air.

All he needed was a piece of machinery that could shoot it out in thin strands. It needed to be small enough for him to be able to carry it on his wrist. He got that covered in reasonably short time as well.

Ever since he started making his suite he had been looking for supply’s. His Aunt and Uncle didn’t have enough money to support any of his previous projects and this was no exception. He had always put them together from random things that worked, like pieces of old scraps that no-one needed anymore, he had found around the house or at school. Due to his time spend outside around alleys he had a larger number of materials to work with. He had hoarded a pile of things that had caught his attention while just passing by or ‘dumpster diving'.

From those he had constructed his first prototype of his Web Shooters. He made two for both of his arms. They looked like oversized bracelets with canisters of compressed Web Fluid sticking out on the top in a place where they were securely in place and wouldn’t be falling out but easy to remove if he had to change them quickly in combat. They extended onto his balms where there were buttons that released the web from the canister if pressed on with his two middle fingers. The watches he had used to make the contraptions stay firmly on his wrists were rusted over and he didn’t like the way it looked so he painted them over with black and silver.

Soon he would upgrade them but right now they did their job nicely.

He thought that he was ready.

* * *

 

The day he decided he would go out as a vigilante for the first time he was on the edge. It was nerve-racking but he had put so much effort into his costume that he thought that it would he stupid to chicken out now. Besides, he had to think about the people out there that needed his help.

He stuffed his suit and Wed Shooters into the bottom of his schoolbag and set out for the door. “Hey, I’m going to the library to study after school!” He called out when rushing past the kitchen.

“No, wait there Peter,” came a response from his Uncle who quickly stood up and walked towards the boy before he could run out. “Come and meet me by that park that’s by my work place when school finishes, I think you and I need to talk.”

“Talk about what?” Peter asked distractedly though he had a pretty good idea of what this was about.

“Please don’t play dumb with me, you’ve been acting so strange and distant all month. Staying out all day with those bad excuses, and don’t look at me like that, even you know that they sound ridiculous. When you’re home you always jump at the slightest of sounds and eat more than even I do. And you’re so quiet recently. You always babble on and on about school and those tech projects you’re always so proud of, but these days you only talk the bear minimum and are so secretive about what you’re doing. Your birthday is in a week and you haven’t even mentioned it! Plus, you look like you have barely slept. Your Aunt and I are so worried about you. We. Need. To. Talk.”

With each point that Ben made he grew more ashamed. He had caused so much worried for his guardians while only thinking of his own problems. Without meeting Uncle Ben’s eye he whispered, “I’ll be there.” He had no idea what he was going to say to him after school but knew that he owed him some sort of an explanation. His Uncle nodded and looked like he was going to step back into the kitchen so Peter, still staring at the floor, started to turn towards the door when suddenly two strong arms wrapped around him pulled him into a hug. “You know that me and May are always there for you? No matter what might happen, right?” He said in a soft voice.

Peter hugged the older man back and said, “Yeah.”

That day he didn’t pay any attention at school. His mind mulling over his Uncle's words. 'No matter what might happen.’ Was it true? Would they not care about his mutation? Maybe he had been worried for no reason. But there was the change that Ben hadn’t thought his words through. He sounded so sincere though..

Peter didn’t know what to think. It all made his head hurt. Should he tell them or not. Judging by how this morning’s conversation made him want to spill all the beans to his guardians then his secret didn’t stand a chance. His Uncle knew how to get him to talk.

He clutched his hag that contained his suit. They would never let him help people, that he was certain of. They’d say that it was not his responsibility and that he was too young. Logically he knew that he was but that shouldn’t matter, at least it didn’t to him. Now that he had his suite to cover his Identity no one would find out.

The classes ended too quickly and he found himself walking towards his Uncle’s and his favourite park.  
They’d been there countless times before, swinging on the swings, eating ice-cream, feeding the ducks or just walking.

Just as he was nearing the park entrance a gunshot rang loudly through the air. A guy with salt and pepper hair ran around the corner in front of him. He froze in the spot when he saw that the man had a gun in his hand. The dug didn’t pay him any mind and stormed past him.

Peter heard shouting of people and loud gasps around the corner. The boy quickened his step and went to see what happened. There was a crowed of people around a person lying on the ground, he looked to be injured. A lady in a professional looking outfit was shouting into her phone for the ambulance to come.

The teens hear missed a beat and his ears started to ring when he recognised the man on the concrete as his Uncle. He ran forward and bushed people out of the way. “Ben! Uncle Ben!” He called for the man while falling onto his knees and clinging to the dying mans vest. There was so much blood, it was everywhere. Some got on his hands but he couldn’t care less.

Ben’s eyes were unfocused and dazed but upon hearing his nephew’s voice, focused on the blurry figure in front of him. “P-peter?” he asked in a raspy voice.

“Yes, I’m here, I’m here. You’re going to be okay, hear me?” He stated but he knew that it wasn’t likely, there was so much blood. Tears made their way into Peter’s face. His Uncle’s eyes unfocused and he opened his mouth, as if wanting to say something to him but all that came out was a painful gasp. His eyelids started to drop. “No, no, no, stay with me, please! Don’t go. Don’t go. Don’t go.” He sobbed into Ben’s chest. The older mans eyelids dropped fully and his breathing faded into nothing. “No, don’t go! Please!” But his prayers were unanswered.

_Gone_...

All the noise around him seemed far away and drowned like he was underwater. The police and the ambulance had arrived but he didn’t hear them.

_Gone_...

He couldn’t breath. No matter how hard he tried, he seemed to be unable to draw in a full breath. The world was spinning.

_Gone_. _Gone_. _Gone_.

One of the police officers put a hand on his shoulder. “Son, do you know this man? Can you hear me? We need to ask you a few questions.” The motion of the hand touching his back made the world snap into place. The noise was back with vengeance and his ears ached. His attention fell onto the man in the police uniform who was saying something but it just went into his ear and came out of the other without him actually comprehending it.

His thought travelled at the speed of light. The gunshot. The man with the gun running. The blood.

Peter uncurled his hands from his Uncle’s vest.

Anger. _Red_ , like blood.

He jumped up before anyone could even blink and ran, paying no mind to the shouting that erupted from the bystanders and the officers. Once he reached a silent alley not too far away he shuck the backpack off his back and pulled out his suit. Hands shacking, he removed his clothes and pulled his costume on for the first time and attached the Web Shooters into his wrists. The mask fit snugly around his head, hiding him from the rest of the world.

The teen climbed up a wall with already practiced ease. Once at the top of the building, he stepped close to the ledge. Peter sucked up his fear, not wanting to waste any time, and jumped. He shot a strand of web towards another building and used it to swing past it, then did the same with the other hand to change direction.

If it hadn’t been the worst hour of his life then he would have laughed out in triumph. It actually worked! He moved so fast the it felt like he was flying.

The new vigilante swung himself towards the direction that he saw the criminal run and moved faster than he ever had. He used his super hearing and sight to help him in his hunt. The street split into two, one was the director of his school, where he had come from, the other would bring you towards the sketchier neighborhoods. It didn’t take a genius to figure out which way the man would have went.

He spend ten minutes examining ever person on the street below him, and every street end, corner or an alleyway. Nothing escaped his eye.

Then he saw it, a batch of salt and pepper hair walking down the street. The man had slowed his run to not attract any attention and had taken on a quick stroll, paws pressed into his pockets to hid his gun. He seemed to be moving toward an abandoned apartment. At leased it looked to be abandoned but in this kind of neighborhood, you never know. Before the guy could make another move he had already knocked him out by swinging towards him and kicking him in the head with a foot. Just to be safe, he used his wed to stick him to a wall.

So this was him. The man that had killed his Uncle. An anger like he had never felt burned through him. This man, if he could even call him that, had killed Ben. He kicked him in the stomach. Then punched him in the nose, feeling satisfaction about the crunch it made while breaking. He wanted to do so much worse. Make him cry, ache and _hurt_ like him.

Peter went to punch him again but found that he couldn’t.

He remembered that one time when he had been nine. One of the boys in his grade had insulted Ms Alma and he went to defend her honour in his nine year old way. The other boy (Flash, if he remembered correctly) made fun of him and bushed him. They started fighting and one of the teachers who walked in had to break them up.

Ben had been angry when he had gotten the call from the principal. His nine year old self had thought that his Uncle was being unfair and asked if he should have let that guy continue to bush him around and being a jerk. Ben had sat him down and said, “Hurting people who have hurt you makes you no better than them. Always be the bigger person.”

He hadn’t realised that he was crying until he felt his mask dampen from the tears. His shoulders were shaking with the barely contained sobs.

With trembling hands he took the guys phone from his pocked and called the police. Straight after, he tossed the phone to the ground and ran.

Peter didn’t know how but somehow he made it back to his bag. He was exhausted and scared. Sliding down the wall to the floor he hugged his backpack to his chest and let himself cry freely behind the dumpster. Soon the fatigue claimed him and he fell asleep.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I will be introducing Deadpool in the next chapter. If any of you have any ideas of how our favourite Spider and Merc should meet, will you let me know?  
> :)


	3. Shiny New Vigilante

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said that Deadpool would be in this chapter but that would have been a little too long so he will be in the next one, Sorry!

Peter woke up in the middle of the night in that alley, behind the dumpster and curled up around his backpack, hugging it closely to his chest. For a while he was unable to move or do anything else. He just sat there and let the cool October air dry his tears but new ones kept on falling.

The teen stayed that way until the sun was already up high and a few rays of light sneaked their way into the dark alley. Then, he forced himself to move. The suit that had been dirtied from sleeping on the filthy ground was shoved into the bag and his normal clothes put on.

When he stumbled through the door of his apartment he was all but tackled by May who looked just as disheveled as he did. She crushed him into her embrace and sobbed that she had gotten a call about Ben and she couldn’t find him anywhere. He hugged her back and they fell to the floor, bawling their eyes out in each others arms. They stayed like that for hours.

He couldn’t help but to blame himself a little bit. If he hadn’t been a terribly nephew would Ben have felt the need to talk to him in the park? The answer was no, he wouldn’t have. He would have been on his way home, far away from the shooting. Logical part of his mind knew that it wasn’t his fault but sometimes, late at night after waking up from a nightmare, he couldn’t help it.

The teen made himself a promise that he would protect and help anyone he could. If not to make this city a better place then to make sure that nobody ended up as his Uncle had. Every bit of determination that his little body possessed went into that oath.

* * *

 

After month after, everything seemed to calm down at leased a little bit and Aunt May seemed stable enough, so he put his suit on for the second time. He webbed himself around Queens (he got the hang of the Web Shooters rather quickly and only flew himself into a few walls) and actually listened and looked. He picked up so much more all at once then he thought he ever could. At first it made his head go mushy and he felt a sensory overload coming on but he pushed it down and let the sound fly through him.

He found a couple of dugs beating up a chubby looking fellow. It took no time at all to web those guys onto a wall. The poor man on the ground was already passed out and looked to be in a serious need of a hospital. He took the older man’s phone from his pocket and called the police and the ambulance. Then watched them arrive from a hidden position on top of a nearby building before continuing his patrol.

By the end of the day he had stopped a grocery store robbery, two other muggings and a guy doing graffiti (even though it looked pretty cool in his humble opinion). It felt good to do something good.

Shortly, this became a routine. Everyday he would finish school, put on his costume and start his patrol.

Soon people began to notice him. He became some sort of an urban legend. No one had any good pictures or footage of him because he was good at evading cameras and moved fast like lighting when people were around. The public dubbed him Spider-Man. He had to admit that he liked that name. At first the people were weary of him, some even calling him a menace. After a while he gained their favour as the saying 'I was saved by Spider-Man' became more and more used. The people who couldn’t defend themselves knew that he had their backs. There were still those who were sceptic about his intentions but he knew that there would always be people like that so he wouldn’t let that bother him.

He ran into a problem along the way. Whenever the criminals and bad guys took longer to take down than his usual ones, who he just webbed to a wall in a couple of seconds for the police to find, they would start to notice certain things. Like how short and small he was. Or how high-pitched his voice was when he jabbed a few sarcastic replys at them.

Peter had no intention of letting anyone know his secret identity, and even though they were very small details, they still pointed to his age. He could do nothing about his small size but he knew a way to throw people away from his voice.

After some thought, he bought a voice disguiser toy from a local shop. He pried open the plastic phone that the microphone was in and messed with its settings a little bit. Once he was satisfied with how it would modify his voice, he attached it to the front of his mask and covered it with a piece of red and back fabric. Now whenever he would talk through it, his voice would sound metallic. Not too deep but enough to make him sound like a robot. Problem solved.

Along with the upgrade in his suite he also learned something new about his powers.

The first time when he had any real trouble while on a patrol was when he saw a bank robbery. A duo of armed criminals were holding the people inside hostage. They looked like professionals. When he crawled inside by the window, hiding to assess the situation before jumping into action, one was pointing a huge gun at the hostages and the other was threatening a worker with a long knife (a katana, now that he thought about it).

She held the blade up to his neck. “Get me to the Safe and you better open it or my buddy here will ruin your carpet,” she hissed through her black leather mask while the other shifted his gun with a grin.

Peter decided that he had seen enough and jumped down from the ceiling kicking the gun-guy in the face and sending him flying into a wall. “Where are the bank robbers' manners these days? Don’t you know how hard it is to get those stains out?” The sound of his modified voice made him smile a little in the inside at his accomplishment.

He went to web the masked man down but was interrupted by a weird sensation in the back of his head. It was like tingling but with a warning feeling to it. The hero was distracted by it until it suddenly increased dramatically. It felt like it was itching and screaming at him to _MOVE_. Almost purely out of instinct, he hopped to the right, narrowly missing a katana slicing through the air where he had been standing just a moment before.

He jumped out of reflex onto a wall to avoid another hit.

He had to admit that the robber was a pretty skilled fighter. She dodged all his webs flying her way and was attacking him viciously. 'She obviously has combat training,' he thought in between jumps where he relied heavily on this new warning bell buzzing in his head.

While she was keeping Peter busy her partner had gotten up from the wall where the vigilante had thrown him earlier. The masked criminal thanked his luck that he hadn’t had the time to web him down beforehand his teammate had distracted him. The gun-guy took a small grenade from his pocked and shouted, “Kara, jump!”

Spider-Man had finally disarmed the warrior and the katana fell to the floor. He heard the yell, turned his head and saw a small, round, innocent looking object flying his way. The woman on his left leaped across the floor. His newfound sense went crazy and his body moved in a flash before his mind even registered what was happening. The vigilante was all the way on the ceiling of the other side of the room when the bomb exploded.

Despite being a fair distance away and the eruption not being as big as he had first thought, he was still the one most effected in the room. His ears rang and there were white spots in front of his vision.

The Spider composed himself quickly and looked at the others in the room. The civilians, who had crept back from the fight, looked to be mostly unharmed just looked scared and disoriented. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on who’s perspective you were looking at) the katana lady had been a little too close to the explosion and was sprawled across the floor.

Before she could get up, he had already webbed her securely onto the ground. The gun-guy tried to run but was too slow and ended up stuck on a wall.

Panting a little, he looked at the bystanders. They looked back at him with wide eyes. “Um.. Someone call the police,” He said and crawled back out the window and flung himself home to nurse his still hurting ears.

After it happened a few more times in bad situations, he concluded that this sixed sense he appeared to have warned him if he was in danger. After he knew about it he became more aware of it in his day to day life. The light tingle when a glass was about to fall off the counter, or when a bully at school walked into the same room.

It was dead useful. He started calling it the 'Spidey Sense'.

When doing his vigilante work, he also ran into a few more dangerous villains than his usual muggers or robbers.

Peter’s first real villain was the Green Goblin.

The Oscorp’s Unity Day Festival was going on in full mode in the city centre so he stayed away from there. Too much noise for his sensitive ears, thank you very much. Observing from the side lines worked just as well.

Just when he had decided to take a break from his swinging and found a comfy looking rooftop to sit on, he heard panic. There was no other way to describe it. People where yelling and screaming in terror. Seeing no other option, he swung towards the hurricane of noise that promised a future sensory overload.

When Peter got to the square there was this guy in a green costume, cackling like mad. He was gliding on some odd contraption and throwing orange bombs at a balcony of well dressed Oscorp scientists. The balcony crumbled and he had to web two people, who hadn’t been fast enough runners, away from underneath it to stop them from being crushed by rubble.

Half the people on top of the falling apart platform had been blown to pits by the bombs (Peter winced). The other half were evacuating as fast as they could. One young lady who had been close to the edge, was standing on a piece of the balcony that was falling off.

He was about to go and get her but the mad green guy glided beside her and looked like he was going to bush her off. “That’s not how you treat a woman, Greenie!” The arachnid themed hero swung towards them and knocked the crazy guy over the head, sending him flying off his glider and onto one of the giant balloons. He put his shoulder under the woman’s harm and held onto her, tightening his hold with his sticking ability just in case, and webbed them both to the ground, a little pit away from the fight.

The crazy guy was already on his feet when he looked around. 'This guy must also have some enhanced abilities,' he concluded. A bunch of police men were surrounding him. The villain put his hands up in mock surrender and send the first officer, who came to cuff him, flying across the street. 'Yup, differently enhanced strength.’

The rest of the police officers were already sprawled out on the floor when he got there. The Spider shot a web at the crazy green guy but he dodged it with ease. It looked like his usual deal of 'knock them over and web them up without actually touching them' wasn’t going to work.

He was right. The crazed one jumped up to him and tried to hit him. Peter dodged it but barely. The vigilante corresponded by trying to kick the guy in the stomach but he just took a hold of his foot and send him spinning towards a few trashcans. He hit it hard and gasped for breath. This was gone leave bruises.

When he got up, the green guy was back on his glider and heading towards him. His Spidey Sense buzzed at him to run. He rolled out of the way and jumped up as the green dude started firing at him. Every pulled sounded like an earthquake to his ears. Just. So. Loud. Another roar from his Spidey sense. The hero webbed himself up onto the side of a nearby building and just in time as the green guy dropped another orange bomb onto the floor. Still the explosion made him loose his balance and fall from the wall. He landed, once again, in the dumpster.

Peter could see the glider moving away into the distance and could hear the maniacal laughter over the ringing in his ears. He wanted to lie there forever and forget that the outside world existed but his stubbornness made him unable to stand down. “Oh no you won’t,” he muttered to himself and forced himself to stand.

The hero swung himself after the green guy and just when it looked like he wouldn’t be able to catch up in his wobbly state, he got an idea. He shot a big strand of web from both of his arms toward the villains glider and, amazingly, they hit his back engine perfectly. They flew into the piece that spat out a little flame of energy as it levitated above the ground and clogged it up. The glider flew out of control and hit the ground, with the crazy guy screeching.

As soon as he was on the floor he was webbed still. The vigilante added a few extra layers just to be sure. Looking around, he saw that several police cars were already arriving at the scene. Not seeing anything else that he could do there, he swung away. On the way home he hoped that he would find a good excuse for his bruised face from eating the pavement a few times.

The press had a field day after that. When the police took the baddy (they nicknamed him The Green Goblin) into custody, they unmasked him. He turned out to be Norman Osborn. _The_ Norman Osborn. Some photographers that were at the scene had gotten some pretty outstanding shots of the fight. Plus, people who were filming on their phones spread the footage all over social media. Those were the first photos that there were of him.

The public became even more intrigued with him and the conspiracy theories about who he might be were everywhere. Of course, non of them were even close. He couldn't help but feel smug about it.


	4. Making Friends

Of course, the Green Goblin didn’t end up being the only villain that he crossed. There was Shocker, Dr Octopus and Electro.

It wasn’t all bad though. Where there was bad, was always good to fight it, too. He met other vigilantes and heroes.

One day the hero had gone a little bit farther away from his usual patrol areas. Peter was a little embarrassed to admit it but he was a little scared to be this far from Queens. He had started out only fighting crime in that area but gradually increase his patrol area. Even with that, he liked being close to home because what will he do when he gets a call from May saying that she was in trouble and needed help while he was on the other side of the city? Even with how fast he could swing it was still eerie to think about his Aunt being alone. Or what about if he got injured and was unable to web himself home or to his backpack? He tried not to think about it and focused on his surroundings.

Hell’s Kitchen. He had never been there before and he wasn’t complaining about that. This place didn’t look that friendly. The chimney stacks made it way easier to swing around though.

He saw a mugging happening in the distance and swung into action.

When that was done the Spider started to crawl away, thinking that he had to be back home before his Aunt missed him, when he felt as if he was being watched. His eyes scanned his surroundings to find a figure across the alley, watching him. He was wearing a red costume with two capital interlocking D’s on his chest.

Peter’s lenses widened. This was Daredevil! He’d heard of this guy, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. The other man was facing his direction and seemed to be analysing him. It seemed like he was viewing his very soul, searching for something. He felt weary but his Spidey Sense didn’t alert him of anything so he didn’t run.

As the silence stretched, he began to get even more uncomfortable. “Um... Hi?” He tried uncertainly.

The other vigilante seemed to find what he was looking for because he stepped out of his stiff stance and took a step towards him, giving him an acknowledging nod. “You’re Spider-Man?” He said, getting to the point.

“Yes,” he said slowly, still clinging to the wall. He wondered if he should just go, or would that be too rude?

“You’re young,” he said it like a statement, not a question. The Spider tensed. 'How does he know? I haven’t done anything to point to that!'

“What make’s you say that, DD?” He asked in a forced carefree voice.

Daredevil shook his head and walked away, “Go home if you know what’s good for you, kid.”

After the guy left he didn’t have much time to bonder on his words as the tell-tale sound of a police car arriving found his ears.

The other vigilantes that he met didn’t comment on his age so he thought that that was something unique that Daredevil could do. Though some of the others gave his little form some weird looks.

The second that he encountered was the Human Torch. That guy laughed at his sassy quips so he was on his nice list. They teamed up once to save a bunch of people from a burning building. Peter had gotten there first but was overwhelmed by the fire and the guy helped him. It had been very nice.

Then there was this one time that he ran into Flash. He had been on his way to stop some small time thieves when, like lighting out of nowhere, the other vigilante had jumped in and knocked the robbers out. They chatted for a while, both excited to finally come across one another.  
  
There were also some unsavoury meetings. Punisher’s brutal nature and willingness to kill made him dislike (and be pretty terrified of) the guy and not want to work with him, but he supposed that he had his reasons for his violent character. He can’t judge.

The hero even assisted the Avengers it the fight against Dr Doom when he had released his robots into NYC. Not that he did anything major. He just helped them keep the robots at bay until they figured out how to shut them down (saving a few civilians while at it), then slipped away before anyone could ask him any questions.

Out of all the people that Peter met during his vigilante time, the one he came to like the most was Deadpool. Not at first though, far from it.

He remembered the first time that he met him quite clearly.

* * *

 

 

Aunt May had left to visit a close friend that she hadn’t seen in awhile after he encouraged her. Even with school and being Spider-Man, he still made a note to spend at least an hour a day with her. Always. He didn’t like how depressed she was looking lately, though it was completely understandable. So when Helga had called her to visit for a few days he had been all for it.

She didn’t like the idea of leaving him alone (“God, what if something happens to you and I’m not around. You’re only thirteen, Peter”) but eventually agreed after he promised to call many times a day.

This meant that he had a lot more time to be Spider-man then normally. He didn’t want to waste a second so he went straight after school as normal.

Of course he got into trouble in the first five seconds.

Peter found himself cornered by a guy with a flamethrower. They were inside a warehouse that the other man had tricked him into entering. He was being chased by the flame and he was quickly running out of room to keep running. Everything was burning. His senses were hazed by the smoke. He wished that the Human Torch would somehow find and save him but knew that that was ridiculous.

The other guy must have been wearing fireproof cloths otherwise it would have been impossible for him not to have burned himself as well.

Eventually his head spun around so much from the smoke that he couldn’t keep himself steady on the wall and fell down. The flame caught up with him and torched his leg. Burning hot pain shot through the limb and he saw white spots dancing around his vision. He led out a loud, tortured scream.

The other man turned the flamethrower off and stepped closer to him. “So this is the almighty Spider-man everybody has been talking about? Kind of disappointing if you ask me. Aren’t you-“

He didn’t have time to finish as a loud bang sounded through the burning warehouse. He didn’t comprehend what had happened between the pain and the fear. The last thing he remembered was a blurry red and black hand waving in front of his face before he blacked out.

When he slowly drifted back to consciousness he was disoriented to say the least. There was a constant throbbing in his leg. The surface on which he was lying on felt.. comfortable? It smelled of gunpowder and sweat but was super downy.

He cracked his eyelids open and was immediately blinded by sunlight from a near window. Once his vision had adjusted enough for him to open his eyes without them burning with pain, he took in his surroundings.

He looked to be in some sort of living room. It was terribly untidy, things were all over the place and weird stains were covering the worn wallpaper. He was lying on a comfy overstuffed couch.

His suit was on the floor, cut to pieces. This made his attention snap to the rest of his body and found that only a thin blanket was covering it. Also, his leg was covered with messy bandages. The Spider panicked and fumbled his hands over his face. To his relief he felt the familiar fabric of his mask beneath his fingertips. His identity was safe.

'Or is it?' He thought and tried to get his foggy mind to work. What had happened?

Then it started coming back to him. The flamethrower. BurningBurningBurning. He let out a small whimper as he remembered the glaring hot pain. He bushed himself up into a siding position, fighting his dizziness.

“Look who’s awake!” Startled by the shout, Peter almost jumped off the bed. He looked around wildly and saw a guy in a red and black leather costume by the doorframe. The Spider tried to stand up as the stranger neared him, but was blinded by the pain in his leg.

“Oh no, no, no, you stay right there! I’m gonna assume that you have some sort of a healing factor because most of the bruises and cuts on the rest of your body are gone but it _sucks_! I mean to normal people it might seem impressive but it really stinks compared to mine. My healing factor makes Wolverine go like 'Oh I wish I had Deadpool's healing factor'.” The other rambled while bushing him down onto the bed with just one muscular arm. He wanted to protest but a wave of nausea made him comply.

“Who are you? How did I get here?” He squeaked.

“Little ol’ me? Well I’m Deadpool! The Merc with the Mouth. I’m honestly offended that you don’t know me!” The guy (Deadpool, apparently. What a badass name) crossed his arms and fake pouted.

“Merc?” Peter asked uncertainly.

“Yup, It was actually my target that cooked you up so bad. When I finish the job I though 'hey I know that guy on the floor' and so I took you to my place batched you up a little bit,” he said in nonchalant attitude. He jumped to a chair next to the bed. “If you want to know then you have slept in about twenty four hours,” he added.

“Finish the jo-“ he mumbled, trying to make sense of what the other guy was saying. “Did you kill him?” He exclaimed in alarm.

“Well yeah, that’s kinda in the job description for me. Plus, he definitely deserved it. Was a known terrorist and roughed you up a bit. Did I mention that I’m a big fan?”

Peter began to have a hard time breathing. The room swam around him. What did this guy want from him? If he wanted to kill him then he would’ve done it by now. “Hey chill out, I’m not gonna do anything bad to you, Spidey. What would he the point of helping you so far?”

He saw the point but couldn’t calm down. “No one deserves to be killed, no matter what they’ve done,” he whispered.

“Well if you say 'kill' then it makes it sound bad. I un-alived him. Is that better?”

Peter was beginning to think that this guy was crazy.

“Anyways, I made pancakes. Stay here, baby boy. I’ll bring you some,” the guy said and strolled to the kitchen.

Deadpool skipped back and flopped a plate of pancakes onto his stomach. He stared dumbfounded as the merc hopped back onto his chair and started to wolf down his own pile that had been masterfully stacked together.

The hero wanted to be distrustful but the cloudiness of his head and the lack of his Spidey Sense buzzing in alarm made him not care.

Out of all the weird things that he had done in his short life, eating breakfast with a mercenary had to be in his top five at least. He turned his attention back to his the food that had been offered to him and shrugged. After sitting up again, he rolled his mask to the bridge of his nose like Deadpool had done. After taking a bite he decided that those were the best pancakes he had ever tasted. He realised how hungry he actually was (enhanced metabolism demands a lot more food than he used to need) and started stuffing his own face as well.

After breakfast he felt a wave of fatigue rolling over him and he fall asleep before getting to say anything else to his unlikely saviour.


	5. Chapter 5

The next time Peter came around, he remembers everything that had happened immediately.

He opened his eyes cautiously. To his pleasure the drapes were closed this time around, only letting in dimmed light. The room looks just as chaotic as before, nothing moved. The blanket that had been discarded around his stomach when he had fallen asleep again, was snuggly covering him from chin to toe. He wondered about that a little bit.

The boy knew that he was going to have to get up. It was hard but he detached himself from the warmth and sat up. His hands found his face and rejoiced when they touched the comforting texture of his mask. Still on. Still safe.

Peter moved the blanket and looked at his leg. It was still covered with bandages but fortunately didn’t hurt as much as it had before. He decided to test his luck and put his feet on the floor and bushed himself up. A white hot pain roared up in his calf and he had to muffle a scream.

'It's not so bad. Come on Peter. Come on Spider-man. You can do this.’ He mentally pep talked himself.

Now that he was standing, he listened. Not a sound in the apartment was picked up by his sensitive ears. Only the snoring of the neighbours and the traffic outside. He was alone. This Deadpool wasn’t here.

He thought about what he should do next when he realised that he was still naked. With a flush he covered his body with the blanket and looked around. With a sad sigh he regarded his torn up suit on the floor. He needed to make a new one but that was for later. After stirring the pile on the floor with his good foot when he felt something hard. Looking down, he could see the slightly melted edge of his Web Shooter. His eyes lit up and he fished them both out of the heap of burned fabric.

From the mess around him, he could detect several items of clothing. There was a stinky sock by the door, a grey hoodie on the chair beside the couch, a belt thrown into the corner and he bet that if he looked around he would find something more. Right now, the hoodie looked to be his best option.

He limped to the other side of the couch, being extra careful not to apply any pressure to his leg, and studied it. There where multiple stains on it (he didn’t want to think about what they were) and it smelled sweaty and gunpowdery like the rest of the house. Shrugging, he threw it on. It was way, WAY too big for him. It hung around his form like a dress and almost reached the end of his thighs. It was the best option that he could see at the moment (plus it was surprisingly soft) so it would have to do.

The vigilante searched a little bit more with his eyes and found what looked like a pair of jeans sticking out of a pile. He limped over to it with only some minor hisses of pain, and tugged them out. There was a hole down at the bottom where the right leg of the wearer should be, along with some smudges of blood. He wasn’t going to ask, so he just put them on. This time around, he was glad that they were so much bigger than him because it made the process so much easier for his injured leg. That backfired a little. They were so big that he knew he couldn’t get them to stay on his hips even if he tried.

He remembered seeing a belt somewhere. Oh yes, there it was. Hobbling over, he took the belt from the corner. That made them stay on well enough. “I look like a scarecrow,” He crumbled to himself.

'Okay, what next?' He thought. Should he wait until Deadpool gets back or should he try to get home himself? Peter decided on the later. He peeked behind the drapes and looked at the street below. It looked like a bad neighborhood but he hadn’t been expecting anything else. The window was so far off the ground that he guessed that he was in the top floor of the apartment complex.  
  
Any web slinging was out of question, that was certain with his injured leg. But how could he get home from over here then? He didn’t know where 'here' even was. Obviously not in Queens, he knew every street there. He couldn’t walk that long. Maybe he’d take the bus? Again he didn’t know where he was. Maybe he could call a taxi? Would that be too expensive? Again, he didn’t know how far he was from home. He had a stash of money saved up for emergencies, and if this wasn’t an emergency then he didn’t know what was.

Peter was beginning to freak out. 'Everyone makes terrible decisions when they’re panicked,' Ms Almas voice reminded him. He took a deep breath, felt it filling his lungs, and let it out slowly. Again and again, until he was calm.

An edge of a telephone booth was just visible down the street. That was good, very good. If he could figure out where he was, he could call a taxi.

The most challenging part should be getting down the stairs. He groaned at the thought.

The Spider moved very slowly and warily out of the room wincing ever so often. As far as he could see, the house looked pretty much the same in all different angles. Sure it was messy but there was something homey about it. He passed the kitchen where there where signs of recent cooking in the form of unwashed dishes. He got a startle when he saw a few guns so casually sitting on the kitchen table.

Down the hall was the apartment door. Peter wondered how he would open it. He had practiced picking locks many times but he was the first to admit that he wasn’t that good at it. His worry was for nothing as he discovered that the door was open.

He was about to get out of there when he remembered Deadpool. He didn’t know anything about him and that was mutual. But still, the guy had saved him from an almost certain death, then helped him heal, fed him pancakes, and didn’t try to take his mask away. He couldn’t just leave without saying anything but he really wanted, no, _needed_ to get home.

The boy scanned the kitchen again and saw a box of crayons sitting on a countertop. He took a dark blue crayon and started writing on an empty cereal box.

“Hi,  
I’m sorry that I just left but I really have to get home. I can’t thank you enough for saving my life, cuz I’d probably be a pile of grilled meat right now if you hadn’t.  
With best regards,  
Spider-Man  
P.S. I had to borrow a few of your cloths, sorry. Plus, you make the best pancakes ever.”

He scribbled a little blue spider at the bottom of the cardboard for good measure and left it at that. It was the best that he could came up with at the moment.

Peter swallowed. He plucked his mask off and stuffed it into the hoodies pocket and pulled the hood over his head so it almost covered his entire head. The hallway was quiet and he was afraid to disturb it with the creaking of his slow-moving steps.

As he moved toward the bottom of the building agonisingly slowly, everything seemed scary. The chipping paint in the ceiling looked like flying bats when they were illuminated by the faint light from the dirty window, and he felt that if he took a wrong step then someone would jump out of one of the doors down the corridor.

Sure, he had gone to some terrible and shady places as Spider-Man but right now he wasn’t wearing his mask or his suit. He was just the little Peter Parker. There was a huge difference. His nerves were on edge and everything seemed like a threat. Soon, his mind started playing tricks on him. Was that a sound? Did something move behind him? He moved himself faster despite his body’s protests, letting out a few whimpers on the way.

It felt like hours had passed when he was finally opening the front door. The fresh air hit him like the relief he felt. But the danger feeling didn’t fade away completely. He was lucky that it was day time because those kind of streets came to life at night and were even deadlier.

The boy blinked, adjusting to the sunlight, and looked for something that would tell him where he was. He saw the street name on the side of the building. He’d heard of this place while being on patrol, apparently it was the place where some major drug trades happened. Definitely somewhere you don’t want to be.

Ignoring the dark stares that he got from the few people who were around, and the light buzz of his Spidey Sense when he neared them, he limped himself to the telephone booth. It looked so run down that he almost despaired but to his delight the phone still worked.

Aunt May had made him memorize the numbers of three taxi drivers in case he ever got lost. He had thought that it was unnecessary before but right now he thanked god that she had done that. The first two hung up on him as soon as he said where he was. He nearly sobbed in relief when the third said that he would come after hearing the desperation in his voice.

* * *

 

When he got to Queens he asked the taxi driver to stop for a second so he could get his bag from behind a dumpster and from there it was straight home.

He had never been so happy to see his apartment. The boy almost had tears in his eyes.

It turned out that he had slept for two days and had countless missed calls and voicemails from May. He cringed and prepared himself for some yelling.

* * *

 

He didn’t show up for patrol for a few days. It was the rational thing to do as jumping around with a limping foot probably wasn’t the best idea in the world. He also needed time to make a new suit too.

He looked at all sort of materials and eventually settled on one that looked like spandex but was stronger. The finished costume looked a lot like his old one but less messy looking and more professional. The colour stayed the same only more vibrant. He loved it so much that he almost forgot about missing his old suite.

When his wound had healed up nicely he thought that he was ready to go out as Spider-Man again.

He was in the middle of his patrol, sitting on top of a building and tangling his legs over the edge. Looking out for anything urgent, when...

“Hey, baby boy, how’s it hanging? Or should I say swinging?” A cheerful voice popped up beside him.

His balancing skill was the only thing keeping him from plummeting down over the ledge. “Wha-“ He shouted and whipped his head around. “Deadpool?” There the merc sat, only a couple of meters away from him. How? No one had ever managed to sneak up on him. Had he been that distracted?

“Oh, you remember me! I’m honoured,” He said and wiped away fake tears from his cheeks.

“Ho- how did you find me?” He enquired uneasily.

“Well I’m good at finding people, that’s also part of my job description. I wanted to ask about the leg, still giving you trouble?”

Peter was a little put off by the tiny slip of concern he heard in his voice but shook it off. “The leg? Ah yeah, its better, thanks.” He said quickly but after a second of silence he added sincerely, “Thank you for saving my ass by the way, I would have ended up dead.”

“Pft, it was nothing. And I see you made a new suit. Looks great on you! Did you copy mine?” He teased playfully.

“Me? Copy your leather sack? As if!” The Spider joked back.

“Hey, getting a little snarky there Mr 'wearing PJs to work'.”

“Don’t laugh at pajamas, and they weren’t even pajamas! It was a dyed bodysuit.” Peter exclaimed while giggling. He had never hit it off so well with anyone before. Actually, he had never hit it off with anyone at all, he had never had any friends. He had no idea why he was getting along so well with this guy. The other was a mercenary (and a little crazy from what he could gather) after all. Which meant that he killed for living, and it was his job as a hero to stop people like him. But that would feel wrong. The guy had saved his life and asked for nothing in return. It would just feel _wrong_.

They both laughed a little and then lapsed into a comfortable silence. He was the first to break it. “Well, I should go and finish my patrol now. Thanks again!”

The vigilante was about to jump and swing away when Deadpool shouted, “Want any help!”

He turned around carefully and asked, bewildered, “What?..”

The merc sight in exasperation, “May I assist on your grand quest to fight the ultimate evil, oh wise one?” He said in a dramatic voice.

“You- you want to help? Um eh, I think that don’t need any-“ He was about to politely decline but stopped when he saw that Deadpool deflated and hunched a little. He really wanted to help? “I mean.. if you really want to help then you have to follow two rules.”

“Oh really! I can! That’s so cool! Wait, what two rules?” He asked.

“Well, first of all you can’t kill anyone. And I mean anyone.” He started, eyeing the gun tucked away in the merc's belt. “Second, you have to do everything I tell you to, okay?”

Deadpool seemed to consider it, “Yeah, I can do that.”

 

 


	6. Little Moments

To be honest, he expected Deadpool to break the rules in the first five minutes. He just seemed so chaotic and uncontrollable. Plus, he himself wasn’t all that good at teamwork and communication so he thought that their team up would be short lived.

However, the other surprised him.

They managed to work fast and efficiently. Usually when he was on a patrol alone then the atmosphere would be sombre as he tried to keep his fate in humanity intact. Somehow, spending all of his free time trying to take down the scum of the earth like rapists, murderers and thieves makes it hard. But Deadpool keeps the mood light all the time with his company and sometimes (most of the time) inappropriate jokes.

The hero had gone home that day in a really good mood, even his Aunt noticed. When he told her that he made a friend at school she had gone ecstatic. He hadn’t expected such a strong reaction from her but he guessed that it was rare for him to have any positive contact with other students in school. It made him feel guilty for lying to her but what was he supposed to say? 'Hey May, I befriended a mercenary today while being a vigilante! He’s very nice. How was your day?' No, that wouldn’t work. It also killed his mood to think about that he would probably not be seeing Deadpool again. The guy had probably just decided to amuse him today.

As usual, he was wrong.

He had just started his patrol when the familiar smell of sweat and gunpowder with just a pinch of maple syrup found his nose. Before he could turn around he heard the tell-tale voice yell, “Hey Spidey, up for another round?”

This swiftly became a part of his routine. Every evening after they were done, they’d agree on the next meeting place and time that would work for both of their flexible schedule.

It was nice to have someone watch his back. They worked well together. His 'knock them over and web them down' method got replaced with Deadpool distracting them (he was really good at that one) and him webbing them from behind.

* * *

 

They had tracked a human traffickers ring to a building that was supposedly their headquarters. They looked the building over from every angle, looking all the exists over. Then sat in a hidden corner and patiently (at least he was patient, Deadpool just whined the hole time about being bored) watched the people coming in and out for a while, making a plan. They needed one, this was way out of his league. Somehow Deadpool managed to look just as casual as ever.

“-and then we but all the evidence in a noticeable location and call the police. You got all of that?” He finished explaining his plan.

“Ok, I think I got it but just in case... Say the whole thing over again, I wasn’t listening.”

Peter groaned. “Just follow my lead, we don’t have a lot of time.”

* * *

 

"Hey, baby boy, if you wanted to pin me down, you could have just asked," Deadpool said, making suggestive movements. "But seriously, to you really have that fast reflexes?”

Peter shrugged his shoulders. He had just bushed the other out of the way from a bullet. It had zipped towards them just when they thought that they had taken down all the robbers. His Spidey Sense had screamed at him and he didn’t think, just bushed the bigger man out of the way and landed right on top of him.

“I have this sixed sense that alerts me when something dangerous is about to happen. Its kind of like this itchy feeling at the back of my mind that gets way worse when something bad is about to happen.” He explained. “I call it the ‘Spidey Sense'.” He added, a little embarrassed.

“Spidey sense! Is it like pinkie-sense?” The merc asked excitedly.

“Like what now?”

“Oh come on, don’t act like you don’t watch My Little Pony!”

“...”

* * *

 

After one patrol Deadpool turned to him and asked, “Hey, its Taco Tuesday. You up for any? I know this really good place not for from here. Their Chipotle Grilled Pork Sauce you replace your brain with your belly. Seriously, it would make Gordon Ramsay orgas- you know what?- never mind."

It took him a moment to realize that he had just been asked to dinner. “Um..” Why not? He was hungry right now. Actually, he was hungry all the time but that was besides the point. “Sure but.. shouldn’t we need to change into our civilian cloths for that?” Peter inquired nervously. He liked Deadpool a lot, he had made so many improvements since they met, but he wasn’t comfortable taking off his mask in front of anyone. It felt like the moment he did that then he wouldn’t be Spider-Man anymore, he’d be the weak Peter Parker. No one would take him seriously. He’d be just some stupid kid from Queens.

“Oh Spidey, it doesn’t matter here. Don’t worry, the owner won’t discriminate! Let’s go!”

That Taco Tuesday turned into Tacos Everyday. He wasn’t complaining.

* * *

 

They were in an abandoned construction site. The part of Peter’s mind that was always in the vigilante mindset pointed out that this would be the perfect place for a supervillain base. It was old, dusty and it looked as it no one had been there in years. The cargo boxes towered around them, making them perfect for hiding. Deadpool had dragged him here.

He watched as the older man placed posters on the big iron boxes around them while he stood nervously in the middle of the small field, kicking the cement with his foot. “Come on, Pooly. Is this really necessary?” He asked while rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yes! Absolutely, Web-Head! I get that you don’t like guns but what would happen if you really needed to use one and you just wouldn’t know how! It would be embarrassing,” He exclaimed, “Sorry, I can’t have my partner be that clueless.”

He was done setting up the target posters around them and stepped beside him. “Plus this gives me a reason to show off,” He added with a wink which made Peter roll his eyes half-heartedly. It was an underestimate of the year saying that he simply ‘didn’t like’ guns after..

_Loud bang. Man running. Red. BloodBloodBlood._

He suppressed a shutter. His friend didn’t need to know that. He could see where the other was coming from, it was time for him to get over it and stop being a baby.

Deadpool took a gun from the bag he had placed his collection in earlier and showed it to him. “This is usually used for close distance shooting and is relatively silent, I guess that its best to start with this.” He raised it towards one of the targets but lowers it suddenly. “Almost forgot.” The merc (practically an ex-merc now) shuffled through his bag of weapons he brought and pulled out a pair of black electric earmuffs. “I understand that those might help with your hearing.”

Peter nodded gratefully and pulled them on. Relief floated him as almost all the sound was blocked from him. Deadpool had caught on to his problem with his enhanced hearing pretty quickly and made an effort to shout less when they were together. He didn’t think that the other would ever know how much that meant to him. This reminded him of the fact that he needed to make something better than his sleeping helmet at home when the sound became too much. He had gotten so comfortable with it that he forgot to look for a better solution.

He gave a thumbs up and Deadpool sent a bullet flying towards the first target. Before the bullet could even hit the cargo box, another two were sent towards the other targets. Each one hit their mark perfectly. It was impressive to watch. The vigilante clapped his hands and the other gave a mock bow.

The other handed the gun over to him and shoved him how to hold it properly. Then gestured for him to try.

Peter nodded weakly. ‘He can do this.’ He raised the gun up towards the nearest target. The cold metal felt wrong in his hands. His finger was tense against the trigger and his hands shook slightly. His breath quickened. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shoot. It was like his body wouldn’t obey him.

_Gunshot. Man running. Blood._

The memory kept replaying in his mind. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking around the gun. He was hyperventilating. His legs felt like noodles.

A muffled bang reached his ears and he opened his eyes (when had he closed them?). There was a small hole in the metal box nowhere near the target. He dropped the weapon and fell to his knees.

_Can’t breathe. Can’t. Breathe._

Everything was spinning. It felt like there was a invisible pressure on his chest that prevented him from taking a full breath. He thought he was going to black out.

Then out of nowhere, two large hands wrapped around his shoulders and shook him gently. He couldn’t focus on anything. One of the arms moved from his shoulder and slid the earmuffs off. The sound of birds chirping and a few cars running a while away reached his ears. Then there was a disembodied voice speaking somewhere close to him. It sounded nice and soothing to him ears. He wondered what the person was saying. He tried to concentrate on it but it blurred together and he couldn’t make anything out. But it sounded warm, that’s all that mattered to him now.

_Can’t. Breathe. Can’t. Breathe._

The strong hands around his shoulders maneuvered him to lie back against someone’s chest. He could hear their heartbeat. The arms wrapped around him and held him. The voice kept whispering to him and now he could understand it.

“Hey. Hey, its all right, Spidey. Can you hear me?” He nodded as best as he could. “That’s good, that’s really good. I need you to relax for me, okay. Breathe. Take a deep breath. Slowly. That’s it. Focus on breathing. That’s it.”

Peter kept listening. He liked that voice. It made him relax.

Soon enough, he could breathe again. The vigilante felt drained of energy, where was he again? He turned his head slightly to look behind him and saw Deadpool eyeing him. He realised that he was pressed firmly against the others chest. A blush crept onto his face and he was glad that he was wearing his mask. Had he really just had a panic attack in front of Deadpool? This was bad. This was really bad.

The Spider tried to get up but the arms around him tightened. He started to squirm and kick. “Hey. Hey. Its okay. Your okay.” The bigger man whispered.

“Let me up,” He said in a small voice.

“Nope, not until you tell me what that was about.” Peter considered trying to kick him off but knew that he was way too tired for that.

He sighed. “It was just a panic attack. Sorry you had to see that.” He murmured

“Just a panic attack? Seriously- and what the hell are you sorry for?” Deadpool shifted his hold on him so he could look at him in the face. The Spider looked away. “Okay. I won’t pry but please tell me what triggered it. The gun?”

Peter nodded.

“But you were okay when I was shooting?”

“A bad memory.” He simply replied.

Deadpool looked like he wanted to question him further but accepted the answer. They stayed like that for a while. He liked how warm he felt like this. Aunt May and him hugged all the time but this was different somehow. He didn’t know how yet but one day he would figure it out.

“Thanks.” He said softly. Usually it took him way longer to snap out of it. Normally, people weren’t any help, only May was but he tried not to worry her with his problems. Once, when he was at school, a week after Ben’s death, he had a panic attack at the bathroom and several students just walked past him and ignored him.

“It was nothing.” He assured. “Want to go and get pizza?”

 

* * *

 

 

"Hey Pooly?" Peter asked out of the blue. 

 

The older vigilante stopped babbling about the time he met a guy in a whale costume and put his pizza slice down. They were sitting on a random rooftop after patrol. Peter was dangling his legs towards the street while Deadpool sat beside him facing the opposite direction, tapping his legs on the roof from the exiting memories his story brought.  

 

He was halfway curled around his bag, fiddling with the black straps. Usually he didn’t bring it to patrol but he had something to do today. Before the other man could say anything he shot his hand into his bag and took out a medallic, blocky object. He shoved it onto Deadpool's lap. 

 

He tilted his head at him and felt the object with his hands, “What am I looking at Spidey? A Bomb? A tracker? A-” Deadpool tapped at the metal exterior of the object and shuck it when one of his fingers pressed a hidden button at the back. The screen light up. “-Phone.” 

 

“Yup,” Peter said, stretching out the ‘p’. “Keep it, okay? To keep in touch.” 

 

Deadpool kept staring at the phone, taking in its strange appearance. It looked like someone had soldered together 4 different phones together and had somehow made it work. And work  _well._  

 

 _“_ It can hide your signal and keep your number anonymous. Call me whenever you need to, ok?” Peter fidgeted a little bit when he watched Pooly analyse the phone. 

 

“Did you make this?” Deadpool asked suddenly, sounding a bit awed. He nodded nervously and felt the need to explain, “Well, um, it was my side project for a while and.. um, I have one too.” 

 

“That. Is. Amazing! Did I really have a world class engeneer by my side and I didn’t even know? How come, Spidey?” 

 

Peter just shrugged but couldn’t stop smiling. He’d been afraid that Deadpool would comment on the design or the fact that it looked like it had been made from random scraps (which it had) but the other just gushed over it and contemplated out loud what kind of ridiculous nickname he would put for Peter alias. 

 


	7. Game On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers are (finally) gonna make an appearance in this chapter. Enjoy!

“Hey there, eye-patch,” Tony said cheerfully, “Is this important cuz I’m in the middle of something important-“

“Cut it Stark, we both know you don’t have anything better to do so gather the team into a meeting.” Fury barked before ending the call.

The mechanic rolled his eyes and put his project down with a sigh.

* * *

 

“Why were we called here, do we have a mission?” Asked Steve in his Captain America voice. The rest of the Avengers around the room looked at Fury expectantly.

The Colonel pressed a button on a remote and picture of a man in a red and blue costume swinging from a rope like white substance appeared on the screen behing him. “I assume that you all know who that is?”

“Of course, that’s Spider-Man. What does SHIELD want the with a vigilante?” The soldier inquired curiously. Rest of the team looked interested as well except Natalia who had a blank face as always.

“We need you to bring him in for questioning. Its not a good idea to have that much unchecked power running around.” He clicked the remote again and a few videos started playing. “After that incident with the Green Goblin the media has been obsessed with him and he gained a lot of favour with the public.”

They watched the clips of the fight from a few different angles. A few winced as they saw Spider-Man hitting the trashcans but all of them were impressed when he got up after the second time.

“Is it really necessary to bring him in?” Tony asked. “Why to you think that he will be a problem?”

“Because SHIELD has been looking into him ever since and we couldn’t find anything that wasn’t already known to the public.” He admitted while pulling out a file containing everything they had on the vigilante.

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me that you, Mr High and Mighty, couldn’t find anything? Oh, this is precious!” The billionaire exclaimed. He snatched the thin stack of papers from Fury’s hand and skimmed through it. “You really have nothing?”

The man in the black suit ignored Tony’s antics. “We need to know his identity and the extent of his abilities to be sure that he isn’t a threat.”

“Nonsense, Man of Spider was our ally in the fight against Dr Doom. Why would he turn his morals around?” Thor boomed in his ever loud voice.

“People are unpredictable,” He stated. “Also the other factor that concerns us is that Spider-Man has been spotted interacting with Deadpool in the past few months.” He pulled up a few shots of them catching criminals together and one of them sitting and.. eating tacos?

“Deadpool? The mercenary?” asked Clint. What would a vigilante, who dedicates all his time to fighting crime, want with a guy like that? Shouldn’t he be trying to but him into jail?

“Actually, our sources have found out that he quit that job a few months ago.” That made everyone stare. They had all heard of the infamous 'Merc with the Mouth' and knew that this was extremely out of character. But ex-merc or not, that guy was as crazy and unhinged as they came.

  
“We understand where your concern is coming from but to we really need to drag him here by force? Maybe he will come on his free will?” Offered Steve.

“That’s highly unlikely. He’s been hiding anything about himself carefully so far. But that’s why I came to you. It would he better for all of us if you brought him in, instead of our agents. We’re thinking that he would be more cooperative.”

* * *

 

It had been a few days since they were assigned with finding Spider-Man and Tony had been working nonstop.

It was becoming frustrating. There was very little information about him and even Tony’s own research couldn’t bring anything new to light. This guy, whoever he was, was like a ghost. An expert on evading cameras and people. The more he read into him, the more impressed he became.

He started his vigilante career about a year ago. His first costume was a little amateurish, though it looked a lot better then most would have managed, but the new one showed a great improvement of skill. It looked significantly more durable and professional. The fight with the Green Goblin was what brought the vigilante into the limelight and he stayed there. It wasn’t surprising. He was good at what he did. The crime rates had dropped dramatically since he started.

From the footage that he managed to gather he saw that Spider-Man relied heavily on his instincts in combat. It didn’t make it look any less graceful. It also seemed that he had very enhanced senses. He found, not one but two, blurry video clips of the guy going into sensory overload after a fight. He filed that information away for later.

So far all the special abilities that the vigilante seemed to have were: enhanced senses, enhanced strength, and the ability to stick to walls.

Another thing that interested Tony was the webbing that Spider-Man used. He presumed that it wasn’t organic because the bracelets had to be for something. Whatever it was, it certainly didn’t look like anything that he had ever worked with. Did he make those himself? He wouldn’t mind getting his hands on the formula once they catch this guy.

He frowned at the last thought. It seemed wrong to dig into the vigilantes personal life like that. He hadn’t done anything wrong yet. From what he could see, it didn’t look like he would. Spider-Man clearly cared for the people, no matter who they were. There were countless interviews of people who were saved by the vigilante and they all praised him. There was even a hidden security camera clip of Spider-Man talking a man out of committing suicide, then buying him a cup of coffee and talking to him for about an hour. It wouldn’t seem right to assume that someone who would do something like that would just go bad.

But he supposed that he understood why SHIELD felt the need to keep more of an eye on him out of all the vigilantes who had been around even longer. Spider-Man had public support. That was a powerful weapon.

You could already see the effect of Spider-Man teaming up with Deadpool on a daily basis. The media was starting to defend the ex-merc without thinking it over just because he was Spider-Man's play date.

Tony shrugged. It made sense why SHIELD wanted the vigilante. If they could recruit him, he would be a valuable asset to them. Plus, he really wanted to know who the legendary Spider-Man was so he wasn’t going to question it.

“Still working,” A tired voice from behind him made him jump. He tore his eyes away from the screen and glanced over his shoulder.

“I’m getting impatient here! The guy is like a champion on not being seen on camera. Nobody has ever avoided me for this long.” He ranted.

Bruce chuckled. “Maybe you are looking at this in the wrong way. You can just get JARVIS to notify you if Spider-Man has been spotted anywhere. Then we can just go and politely ask him to come with us.” Tony snorted at the last sentence.

“To you really think that I haven’t tried that yet? Apparently, if this guy doesn’t want to be found he isn’t. His only blind spot is Deadpool. Maybe we should just track him? That guy is so loud and obnoxious that everyone can hear him coming from a mile away. Why Spider-Man decides to but up with him is beyond me. Okay, I can understand that he’s a fair fighter but-“

“Sir, Spider-Man has been spotted by a security camera near Hell’s Kitchen.” A pleasant robotic voice from the ceiling interrupts Tony.

The billionaire’s eyes lit up and a big grin spreads across his face. “Now we're in business! JARVIS, tell Cap and Clint to come with me. Then inform the other Avengers to get into the viewing room and to activate their coms.”

“Right away, sir.”

* * *

 

Peter was having a good day. He had woken up early and made May pancakes for breakfast. Ever since he tasted the ones Deadpool made, he had wanted to recreate them. Once, he asked the older man about them and he had laughed and just said 'lumps' with no more elaboration. It was infuriating and now he was just trying different methods. Aunt May had commented on his recent baking so he just played it off as him wanting to help around the house more.

Speaking of Deadpool, they had agreed that they’d meet near Hell’s Kitchen today so that’s where he was headed straight after school.

School, as usual, had been horrible. He had practically ran out the door when the final bell signalled his freedom. Leaving all the staring and judging eyes behind.

It had almost been a year since he became Spider-Man and it was still as thrilling as ever to pull his suit on behind a dumpster and web himself into the air. Nothing was better than the feeling of wind rushing past his face as he flew over the city.

He perched on top of a fire escape and looked over to the nearby rooftops and chimneys. It seemed that Deadpool wasn’t here. Since he had a habit of coming early, he looked for a clock. There was a large, ancient looking one above a restaurant. He wasn’t sure how accurate it was but it said that he was twenty eight minutes early. Oops, he may have been a little too excited to escape from school.

Sighing, he decided to relax for a few minutes. With everything going on in his life it was hard to find a moment to take a breather. He climbed all the way onto the rooftop and dropped himself unceremoniously onto the roof. The bright, summer sun had heated up the surface making him almost purr at the warmth.

He almost dozed off when a sound reached his ears that didn’t match his surroundings. It was like a motorbike engine alongside a smooth running vacuum cleaner. There was something familiar about it, but he couldn’t quite place it.

Peter was about to forget about it when he realised that the sound was coming closer. He cracked his eyes open and lifted himself up. Nothing could be seen behind the buildings but it seemed like the noise was no too far away.

Then something red and gold appeared flying in the distance. With a jolt, Peter realised that the sound was Iron Man’s thrusters. He quickly jumped to another roof and hid himself in its shadowy fire escape. If someone would look very closely they would be able to detect his colourful costume but if someone just glanced over the area then he would remain invisible.

'Is this just a coincidence or is he after me?' He asked himself. There were a few occasions when he had seen Iron Man fly around the city in his armour but he had never heard of the man coming to these parts. His heart beat faster and he bushed himself tighter into the dark wall.

After he fought Dr Doom’s robots with the Avengers he had been so scared that he might end up on their radar but fortunately they never showed him much interest. He had thought that he was safe. Of course he knew that SHIELD wanted to know everything about every human being with special abilities, to keep track of them, there were only a few that were still masked to them. He wanted to remain one. What would they want from him? Would they tell Aunt May? Would they threaten her? Would they throw him into a cell if he didn’t cooperate with them? Would they experiment on him?

Peter suppressed a shutter. He didn’t want to think about it. 'Come on Peter. Come on Spider-Man.’ He chanted to himself.

Now, it you’ve never been in situation where a big, heavily weaponized iron armour is flying towards you, possibly with not so good intentions, then you have no idea how terrifying it is.

The sound of the thrusters was getting louder. Peter guessed that Stark was about a few houses away. He tried to gather himself. Breath, breath, breath. If he had a panic attack right now then it would be impossible for him to get away. He took a deep breath and let it out gently. After repeating that a few times, he felt his head clear.

What should he do? Should he try to get out of here while he could? There was no way Stark wouldn’t notice him swinging away if he was this close. Maybe he could carefully crawl to the ground and nick some clothes, that were drying beside the bottom windows, to change into? Then he could just pretend to be a civilian and walk away.

Or, he could man up and face the music. What was he so afraid of anyway? It wasn’t like Stark was a bad guy. Right? He wouldn’t hurt a fellow hero. What if he wasn’t even here for him? Stark could just be on a mission and he was just being paranoid.

The vigilante could hear Iron Man’s armour passing him, it sounded like a small jet when up close. The giant piece of metal landed on the same rooftop where he had been basking in the sunlight just a minute ago. Peter didn’t dare to move.

“He isn’t here, guys.” Stark suddenly spoke up. It looked like he was talking to someone inside of his helmet. Who? Peter could hear muffled voices but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. “Yes I’m sure, Steve.” He said in an exasperated tone.  
  
Steve? Did he mean Captain Rodgers? It was looking more and more likely that they were looking for him. He watched curiously as Stark looked the roof over, then started studying the nearby buildings and chimneys.

“Come on, he probably just left, he isn’t known to stay in one place for a very long time anyway.” Iron Man commented. “He was here just a few minutes ago, though.”

The Spider went even more alert after hearing that. How did they know he was here? He was always so careful and he had memorized the locations of all the cameras in his usual areas which this was. His eyes ran across the surrounding area desperately. What did he miss? There should only be four cameras in this street. Each should not have been pointing at him. He counted each one over carefully. Then he found it. There was a new hair salon beside him, he forgot about that. Of course new places had new cameras! Had he really gotten that sloppy? There it was, a common twenty four hour camera on the edge of the building, pointing straight at the spot where he had lied. Damn it!

“Just in case. JARVIS, check the surrounding area for any abnormal heath signatures.”

This wasn’t good. Peter didn’t know for sure how much he differed genetically from normal people but he wasn’t going to just sit there and pray that this JERVIS thought that he was a normal human being. He needed to have the first move.

He slowly moved out of his hiding spot and jumped soundlessly back to the side of the building where Stark was standing. The other still couldn’t see him from that angle. Peter crept up the brick wall from the side that the billionaire had his back towards.

Showtime.

The vigilante made his way up towards the edge and sharply hopped onto the rooftop. “And why, if I may ask, are you looking for me.” He inquired, startling the man in the iron armour standing only a few meters from him.


	8. You Don't Want to Meet Your Heroes

Tony jumped at the at the weird metallic voice behind him and turned to see Spider-Man crouching down at the edge of the roof, eyeing him. How the hell did he get there so fast? Hadn’t he just been facing that direction? He could hear the others in the viewing room whistling and making unhelpful comments.

“I didn’t even see him coming your way.” Said Clint, sounding a little bewildered. “Should we move in?”

“No. Let’s let Tony start the conversation.” Steve spoke up from his hidden position down on the street.

The billionaire turned his attention back to Spider-Man who was still looking at him expectantly. The vigilante looked a lot different in person. He looked.. smaller. It seemed that if he were to stand all the way up he would barely reach Tony’s chin, and he wasn’t considered to be that tall either. He had a lean body laced with a layer of muscle that was barely noticeable but, from what he had heard, could do some serious damage.

“What’s with that voice? Couldn’t get a better modifier?” Was the first thing that popped out of his mouth. He winced a little behind his helmet. That probably wasn’t the best way to start. But come on, it really was a horrible voice converter.

“Don’t ignore the question, Mr Stark.” Mr Stark, seriously? How formal to you need to be. Spider-Man looked to be relaxed and at ease when he spoke he could see a slight tension in his limbs. Natasha pointed that out as well.

“Well, I just want to talk.” He was trying to sound as casual as possible.

“Really, just you? Then who are the other people at the other side of the com?”

It was an innocent enough questions but the entire viewing room went silent. Did he really hear them or was he just guessing? If he did then he must have even more advanced hearing than they thought. Could he make out their words?

“Oh, that’s just my AI, JARVIS.” He attempted to play it off.

“Uh huh.” Judging by that tone, he wasn’t doing such a good job.

“Anyways, I was wondering if you could answer a few questions for me.” He knew that that was a little too straight forward but he wasn’t currently in the mood to beat around the bush. The vigilante pushed himself up from his perching position and stretched his legs. He was standing dangerously close to the edge but Tony presumed that with his agility it would be a piece of cake.

“ _Questions_? Well whatever happened to the 'just want to talk'?” Spider-Man was taking tiny steps away from him but he slowly moved closer to the wall crawler, keeping the distance the same.

“Don’t worry, just a few harmless questions. In fact, maybe you should come over for tea to answer them?”

“Hm, let me think about it.” The vigilante held his chin in a contemplating manner. “I’m so, so sorry but I just remembered that I’m supposed to meet a friend! How about later?” Spider-Man was now on the corner of the roof, one foot almost all the way off the edge.

“I’m afraid that that’s not possible, please come with us.” Said Steve, who had walked towards the front of the building where they were standing. Now it was Spider-Man’s turn to jump and turn.

* * *

 

Peter was in a total panic on the inside. His road was blocked from his front and his back by an Avenger. Of course Stark would have backup! Why was he always so stupid? Those weren’t your everyday criminals or amateur villains. He was so done for. But he had to get out of this. If not for himself then for Aunt May.

“Sorry, I _really_ don’t want to disappoint my friend.”

He could hear someone saying something inside Iron Man’s helmet but still couldn’t make it out. He tensed his legs, ready to jump and swing away to his right when his Spidey Sense screamed. It felt like everything slowed down and he turned his head just in time to see something small and black zipping towards him. He hopped a step closer to the centre of the roof and suddenly time was back to normal again. The small object, which turned out to be an arrow, hit the ground in the place where his arm had been not a second earlier.

The Spider snapped his head up and searched the direction which the arrow had come from with his enhanced eyesight. He saw a man dressed in black a few houses away. The stranger was holding a bow and was looking quite flabbergasted. Peter recognised the guy, it was Hawkeye. Damn it, this was looking worse for him by the second.

It appeared that he wasn’t the only one who was surprised that he could dodged that as he could hear the sound of Stark gasping. He wasn’t going to let their distracted state go to waist so he swung himself off the building as quick as the lightning. Too scared to look back. Really, he couldn’t remember ever going that fast. Well, maybe when.. Not the right time to think about it!

Sadly, he didn’t get very far.

A frisbee of red and blue was flung to towards him. It didn’t hit him but it severed his Web Fluid like it was nothing and flew back to it’s owner. He started falling but before he could hit the concrete, he shot out another strand of web and pulled himself onto the nearest building. His hands clung to it like his life depended on it but before he could shoot another web out he had to avoid another arrow from Hawkeye.

At that point, his Spidey Sense had gone so crazy that he couldn’t tell where the danger started and where it ended. He couldn’t rely on it anymore.

He could hear Iron Man’s thrusters behind him and he tried to turn to the opposite direction but Captain America jumped in and blocked his path again.

“Listen, Spider-Man. We just need to know who you are and what you can do. Nothing more.” Captain Rodgers said in what was supposed to be a reassuring voice.

“We won’t force you to reveal your identity to the public, don’t worry.” Stark added.

He turned to faced to man in the iron armour and glared at him so fiercely that he was sure the other could feel it through his mask. “You couldn’t hide your identity, what makes you think you could protect mine?”

With that he jumped into action again but this time he webbed himself into a narrow alleyway instead of above the buildings. There may be more of them. They might be bigger and stronger but this was his domain. He knew most of New York off by hard at this point. He’d been in this area quite a few times before and knew where everything was and how to move fast.

From behind he could hear shouting and running. It was easy for him to dash through the shadowy ally but he could hear Iron Man’s armour getting closer. He needed to lose them. Fast. He swung left and right, took a couple of sharp turns (which caused Iron Man to crash into a few walls) but nothing. They were stuck to him like clue. Stark send a repulser beam at him and he barely dodged but the closeness of the shock made him fall again while covering his ringing ears with his hands. The one thing he appreciated about Hawkeye’s arrows was that they were silent.

Peter was lucky that he was close to the ground but he still hit it hard with a yelp, bruising his arms and side while at it. Before he could get up, Captain America was on him and trying to wrestle him to stay down. He grasped his wrists and tried to force them behind his back but he was stronger then he looked. The vigilante yanked his arms free and shot up. The Capitan looked surprised at his strength but that only lasted a heartbeat.

“We don’t want to hurt you. Just make it easier on all of us and come on your free will.”

He chose to ignore what he was saying and made a move to crawl back onto a wall again but was tackled to the ground. This time the Captain knew what he was up against and pinned him to the ground with all his strength. He struggled and kicked with all his might but the other was so much bigger then him. That usually wouldn’t be a problem for him but this time he was dealing with a super soldier. Peter wasn’t use to someone being that much stronger than him. It sounded funny when he thought about it. Only a year ago he had been the weakest kid in his age group.

The vigilante reminded himself that he wasn’t that twig anymore. In his last resort, he teared one of his hands free and punched the Captain in the face with all the energy he had. He heard a terribly crunch and jerked himself up when a repulser beam hit him straight in the chest and send him flying into a wall in full force. It looked like the brick cracked a little at the impact.

His vision blurred a little and his ears rang with no other sound reaching him. He could feel something drizzle out from the corner of his mouth. What was that taste? Was it blood?

That thought snapped him out of it just as another blast was flying his way. He dove to the side but another wave of piercing pain exploded in him ears. Why wouldn’t it stop, it _hurt_. He wished his ears would fall off.

His vision cleared and he saw Iron Man charging him, fast. He sucked in a breath and pulled himself up onto the wall with shaky hands. Before Stark could get to him, he swung himself towards the other side of the alley but wasn’t fast enough to dodge the arrow that flew towards him.

It hit him in the thigh and he let out a muffled scream. Pain flared at his already abused senses and he blacked out for a moment. He come back just a second later when he hit splat against the wall that he had been swinging towards. Peter tried to stick to the wall but he was too slow and plummeted to the concrete.

His breath came out in small pants as he tried to move his body but failed to find the strength to pull himself up. Everything felt.. weird. He was dizzy and his vision swam more than before. He was sleepy. Why was he sleepy? He shouldn’t want to seep right now. What was going on? He restarted his battle of trying to make himself stand up but the best he could manage was a few jerky movements with his arms and legs.

Was someone talking? He felt like someone was talking. Peter tried to focus on his surroundings but everything was still so blurred around him. Why was he here again? Why did everything hurt? He let out a pained whine. His leg and ears really hurt.

Why couldn’t he just sleep? Someone very smart once said that if you sleep then you will feel better afterwards. Who had it been again? Aunt May? Or had it been Ms Alma? Didn’t matter, they’re both smart. He wished May could be there, she would know what to do. She always did. Oh god, it hurts. He just wanted to sleep...

* * *

 

Tony winced as he watched the arrow hit Spider-Man in the leg and how he crashed against a wall with a cry of pain. He flew forward to catch him when he started falling but he wasn’t fast enough and his small form hit the ground with a small thump.

The guy gave them quite the chase so it was a little satisfying to see him go down but he we didn’t want to think that this was personal. The body on the floor shifting and looked like he was trying to push himself up.

“How the hell is he still moving? That tranquillizer should have knocked him out cold for twelve hours!” Clint yelled as he watched Spider-Man moving on the ground.

“Maybe we should have taken his enhanced system into consideration. Its fighting the drug so fast that it might not even make him unconscious.” Bruce suggested.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Tony watched Spider-Man’s slow and sluggish movements. “It doesn’t really matter, he's too far gone to actually put up a fight now. I’ll take him to the Tower, he needs medical attention.” He noted as he watched crimson pooling around the arrow still planted in his leg. Not wasting any more time, he lowered himself down towards the vigilante.

“Why don’t you do us all a favour and step away from Spidey.” A deep voice made him stop in his track and glance around. The voice had been deadly quiet, the kind of quiet that was the calm before the storm. The scary kind. There was a figure standing in the shadows at the end of the alley. The form stepped forward revealing it’s red and black leather costume.

“Deadpool.” Steve acknowledged. “This doesn’t concern you.”

The bad promising voice was gone and replaced with a cheery one. “Oh but it does. Since you’re here right now beating up my _partner_.” He emphasized the word 'partner' with a light stroke of one of his katana on his back.

“We need to bring him in for questioning.”

“Like that justifies everything, Tin Can.”

“What the hell did you just call me-“

“I agree with Deadpool on this.” A voice came from the other end of the ally and even the ex-merc jumped a little. A red, horned figure stepped out of the shadows. “Three against one? Seems a little unfair. Let’s even the odds a little bit, shall we?”


	9. Chapter 9

The tension in the air was so thick that it was almost visible. Nothing could be heard except Spider-Man’s hard short breaths.

Suddenly, everybody was moving.

Both vigilantes jump into action at the same time. Deadpool swirled his gun in his hand and sends a rain of bullets Iron Man’s way. The billionaire jumps out of the way, his armour still taking a quite a few new dents.

Daredevil avoided the arrow that Clint send his way and moves in to punch him but the archer dodges and retaliated with a kick of his own. The vigilante groaned and send a well directed hit towards the other's gut that threw him off his balance for a second. During that second Daredevil snatched his bow from his hand and sends it flying far over one of the four-five story walls on either side of them. Hawkeye let out a strangled yell and storms the vigilante.

Captain America pulls himself up from his half kneeling position and turns his attention from his shattered nose to the action around him. After taking a moment to decide who to help, he ran towards Deadpool who had ran out of bullets and was fishing new ammo out of his pockets. He threw his shield at the other man and knocked the gun out of his hand while Tony surged forward. Before he could get another hit in Deadpool grabbed him by the arm and swung him into Tony with all his strength.

Deadpool swiftly moved and crouched down next to Spider-Man’s now still form. He pulled the blue sleeve of his suit down a little to feel his pulse, sighing softly in relief when he found it. Turning his head slightly he could see Iron Man flying his way fast. The vigilante let out a colourful curse and tore one of the Web Shooters off of Spider-Man’s wrist.

Spidey had showed him how he used them after he bugged him about it for a while. He felt the centre of the contraption with his fingers until he found the exact place where to ably pressure to and the canister filled with Web Fluid popped right out. Judging by the weight of it, it was only half full but that would still work.

He shot upward and maneuvered himself out of the way just as the giant red and gold armour was about to crash into him. However, he wasn’t fast enough to avoid the repulser blast that slammed him into a wall. The ex-merc let out a little grunt when a metal arm landed on his throat. With a strength to match, Deadpool took hold of the arm and used it to hurl Tony into the same wall.

Before the billionaire could react, he thrusted the canister in between the cap that separated the arms and body of the iron armour. He plucked a knife from his belt and stabbed it into the can, making it explode. The sticky substance filled the insides of the armour, making it impossible for Tony to move.

“What the hell did you do!?”

All Deadpool could manage was a crooked grin before Captain America ran into him and pushed him to the ground. From his position on the floor he could see Daredevil and Hawkeye still trading punched. They both looked pretty banged up. Refocusing on his current situation, he shifted his head out of the way of another hit.

“Ooooh, what happened to your nose? Did Spidey do that?” Deadpool asked as he dodged another blow and jumped up. “Really!? He did? That’s my boy! I thought that he would never come out of his shell!” He said, taking the low growl that he got as an answer.

Deadpool was about to pull out his katanas when he saw a small black arrow lying on the ground just a few feet away from them. He landed a well aimed hit at the other guy’s stomach which send him reeling back and snatched the arrow into his hand. Without further ado, he rammed it into the Captain’s shoulder. The super soldier staggered back and collapsed onto the floor.

He looked around just to see Daredevil ram Hawkeye into the ground, knocking him out.

They both straightened out and looked at each other, the only sound that could be heard was Stark's cursing. Daredevil wiped blood off of his chin and nodded at the other.

They turned their attention to the small unconscious figure in the red and blue costume. “You know Spidey?” Deadpool asked while moving towards his little friend.

“Ran into him a couple of times.”

“Well, I’ll let him know you helped, Hell Boy.” The ex-merc bend down and looked Spider-Man over. His suit was ripped in multiple parts and there were a few places where blood was soaking the fabric of the costume. The most noticeable being the pool of red around the arrow still sticking out of his thigh.

“You gonna be able to patch him up on your own?”

“Think so, yeah.” He said while picking the wounded vigilante up bridal style, mouthing a silent sorry when he received a pained moan in response.

* * *

  
The first thing that Peter felt when he drifted back to consciousness were the soft cracks on the warm thing beneath him that reminded him of Ben’s old leather jacket. This didn’t feel like his room and plus he wasn’t wearing his 'lights out helmet’ so where was he...

Abruptly, all the events of the last day rushed back. With an alarmed intake of air, he opened his eyes and jerked himself up to a sitting position. Dizziness hit him hard and he was forced to lie back down but he saw enough of his surroundings. He was in a familiar room instead of a prison cell that he had been expecting. The faint orange light that shone through the gap in the curtains illuminated the stained walls.

The Spider wanted to cry in relief. This was Deadpool’s place. It was safe. He was safe.

He blinked a little when pain spiked up in his leg. This situation was giving him a weird feeling of déjà vu. A giggle bubbled up from his throat at that thought. He regarded letting it out because as soon as it left his lips a sharp pain stabbed him in the chest. He sucked in a quick breath but that only made it worse and a pained noise forced it’s way out of him. Tears stung his eyes and he tried desperately to focus on other things.

Peter snuggled his head back into the mushy couch and inhaled the comforting scent of gunpowder and sweat. The light from the window was dim and just perfect for his tired eyes. He felt so warm there under a tattered blanket, pressed into a couch. His mind was getting drowsy now that the worst wave of pain was over and his eyes were starting to drop.

But where was Pooly? Was he okay? Did he know what happened after he passed out?

He felt too tired to think about it anymore. His entire body felt so heavy like he was made of water. The boy used his last strength to pull the blanket around himself tighter and fell inside the black again.

* * *

 

The next time Peter came around, he immediately felt that there was somebody in the room with him. He could hear a lazy heartbeat and a wheezing breathing a few feet away from the couch. His eyes opened cautiously and he almost yelped when he saw someone draped over the chair next to the couch. He was about to jump up and yell stranger danger when he got a better look at the 'could be threat'.

He was sleeping while sitting facing inside the chair. Legs open around the sides, chin and elbows leaning on the back of the chair. A few snores made their way out of his slightly open mouth after every few breaths. But that wasn’t the concerning part.  
  
There were deep, angry scares running all over his bald head. No, not just the head, he noted, his arms and legs too. Wait.. was this.. Deadpool? He’d seen his skin a few times while eating, when they had both lifted their masks up to their noses. The other had seemed uncomfortable at first (he had been as well about letting the other hear his voice) but had become relaxed about it after a few times.

He had figured that the ex-merc only had them on his face but apparently they covered his hole body. They looked like they spoke of pain. Where had his friend gotten them?

Once he had gotten over the initial shock he began to think. Why had the older man taken his suit off? As funny as it was to see Deadpool in a t-shirt and shorts, it was also kind of scary. Did he not think that he would wake up when he was here? Did he fall asleep on accident? Should he sleep on and pretend that he never saw him? But would that be fair? He would want the other to tell him if he happen to see his face.

He took a deep breath to stop his anxiety from taking over and let it out slowly. It would be easy to just wake him up and ask him, right?

Peter stared at the ceiling with sleepy eyes and listened to the rhythmic heartbeat of his friend. It was impossible not to let out a hum of contentment. The warmth trapped in the cocoon of a blanket wrapped around him send him to cloud nine. The chilly air on his masked face along with the dull light coming from the window told him it was early it the morning. It was utterly silent. No one waking up yet, even the birds weren’t chirping. Only the faint sound of water dripping which suggested that it had been raining recently and the light snoring of Deadpool reached his ears. Neither were unwelcomed sounds.

It was hard to think of a time where he had been this relaxed. The only thing tainting that perfection was the throbbing ache that rolled over his entire body, intensifying in his leg. That thought brought a frown to his face.

He gently reached out a hand from his bubble of warmth and tapped the older man on the leg. “Pooly? Pst, Pooly.” He whispered and immediately pulled his arm back to the protection of his blanket.

Deadpool let out a crumbly sound and stirred awake. “I’m pancake, I mean, awake..” The ex-merc blurred out while sitting up. He massaged the back of his neck and groaned. “Bad position to be sleeping in, making a note to myself.”

Dark brown eyes travelled up towards the couch and a goofy grin made its way to his scarred lips. “Web-head! Your awake!” He jumped up from the chair and sat on the armrest of the couch. Peter tried to sit up as well but Deadpool waved his hand in front of his face to stop him.

“Those pompous bastards really did a number on you. Don’t move! I checked and your ribs are not broken but bruised as hell. Plus, your leg.. Well, at least you look better than earlier. I wasn’t sure what the hell they gave you and when you would wake up so...”

The Spider led out a pained laugh that made the older man look at him weirdly. “Sorry.” He said coughing. “But this situation is just,” Giggle. “Just a little familiar..”

Deadpool made another grin but this time it faded quickly. “Sure I remember. This time its a little worse.”

“Yeah.” They let the silence stretched. It was comfortable at first but then he started fidgeting with the edge of the blanket and eyeing the other vigilante.

Deadpool took notice of his gaze and chuckled a little. “Was just too lazy to pull the suit on.” He said as if they were talking about the weather, not his secret identity.

Peter raised a tired eyebrow. Was it really that easy for him? Did he trust him so much? Or maybe that was because he didn’t have anyone like Aunt May to protect. That thought was depressing. Everyone should have someone like that. Someone who cared and worried.

He jerked up “Oh no. May!” Ignoring the dizziness that it brought him, he started pulling himself up. Deadpool took a hold of his shoulders and pushed him down but he kept trying to squirm away.

  
“Whoa, whoa, stop moving! You’ll hurt yourself! This went from zero to one hundred real quick!” He yelled. The Spider hissed when he moved his leg and ceased moving. “Okay, what’s up? Who’s May?” He asked in a gentler voice.

“She’s my Aun- I mean, she’s the person I live with.” Peter was so tired all of a sudden that he stopped his attempts to get up and slumped down. Deadpool hesitantly led go of his shoulders. Still holding his hands near, just in case. “She is gonna freak out. I told her I would go straight home after scho- Eh.. That I’d be home when she got back from work. I have to get home, now.”

What would he even say to her? She was probably worrying her head off about him and looking for him. How could he do that to her? After all that she did for him...

He made a move to get up again but large hands landed on his body again, holding him down gently but firmly.

“Okay, I get it. Stay down! We’ll figure something out. But you’re not going out like this!” Deadpool stated with the air of finality. He kind of had a point, he doubted that he could stand on his own and he bet that he looked like the dead. The older man looked thoughtful for a moment. “Can you call her? Maybe tell her that you are with a friend? Or should I say your BFF?” He added with a smirk.

Peter appreciated the attempt to lighten the mood but it didn’t help a lot. He could only manage a small smile before a frown replaced it. “I don’t do that often.. I mean... And I don’t have my phone...”

“Really? You don’t have your phone? I always figured that you had a secret pocket in that suit of yours that I didn’t know about. Bummer.”

“I keep my stuff and clothes inside of a backpack when I go to patrol. Just change into my suit and hide it behind a dumpster or something and collect it later.” He said with a sleepy shrug.

“Huh, that’s brave. What if it got stolen?”

“It hasn’t so far.”

“Okay, tell you what. You tell me where your mystery bag is and I go get it for you. Then you can go and tell this May that you are with your _bestie_ and will stay for a day or two. How does that sound?”

Peter was honestly too exhausted to object about anything and just mumbled instructions to find his backpack.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Peter turned his phone off with a sigh of relief. He had negotiated with his Aunt for the past hour. Most of it was her yelling about him acting irresponsible and him apologizing over and over and over again until it wasn’t so sincere anymore.

He said that his class had gotten an English project dumbed on them on Friday and he didn’t know where to start on his own. One older kid said that they could work together in his house. They’d hit it off so well that they decided to have a sleepover while working on it and he had forgotten to tell her in the rush of things.

It was a lame story. Deadpool tried to muffle his laughter in the background the entire time. “Hey, pst, say your friends name is Wade!” He let out another poorly muffled giggle. “Just do it!” He whispered semi-quietly.

Luckily Aunt May bought it but you could tell from her voice that she was disappointed that he forgot about her. He hated lying to her but at that point there was no way around it. He just had to remember that he would never actually forget about her no matter what he was doing.

They had agreed that he could stay the weekend there but he better get his butt home by Sunday evening or else. Her words, not his.

Peter tossed the phone to the floor beside the couch and rubbed his eyes through the mask. He had to make this up for her somehow, but how? The Spider decided to think about it later and turn his attention back to Deadpool who was ruffling through his bag with little to no shame.

“Come on, Pooly! Give it back.” He murmured.

“Yeah, just a sec and I’ll- Wait! Is that my hoodie?” The older man asked, surprised.

Peter’s eyes widened and he snapped his gaze onto what the other had dug out of his backpack. It was the grey hoodie that he had stolen from Deadpool when he first met him. He had planned to throw it away at first but by the time he was home, he was already attached to it. So he just washed it and kept it. It looked huge on him but it was so soft and familiar that it quickly became his most treasured clothing item. May had raised an eyebrow at it when she came home and he blurred out that he bought it from a thrift store because it was cheap.

So what if it smelled like Deadpool? That had nothing to do with it. At least that’s what he told himself.

“No.” Peter said quietly while pretending to find the floorboards interesting. He was trying to sound casual but knew he was failing miserably.

“Yes it is! Its the one you took when we first met.” The little hero fiddled with the hem of the blanket and didn’t look at the other vigilante.

“Maybe.” He was so glad that his mask concealed his face because he was sure that if it didn’t, the blush on his face would stand out on his pale skin. The other would surely notice it.

“Awww, Spidey! You kept it!” The ex-merc said playfully but there was genuine happiness in his voice.

“Maybe... I get it if you want it back, so-“ He was cut off by a hurried voice. “No, by all means, keep it if you want to! I won’t miss it, promise!” He chimed and tossed the hoodie towards him. Normally, he would have caught it but his reflexes were very sluggish and slow so before he could raise his hand, the grey fabric landed on his head. He slid it off and gave Deadpool a mock glare.

He pulled the hoodie over his head, making an effort not to move too much to stop his injuries make themselves known. Once he was inside the item of clothing, he didn’t bother to put his arms inside sleeves and just shifted to be more comfortable. He tried to curl in on himself as best as he could in his current situation and pulled the hood over his entire face.

Peter knew that Deadpool was watching him but didn’t care. There was some shuffling in the background and he felt the bigger man sit on the floor, leaning his back against the couch. Their heads were touching slightly. “Comfy?” The older vigilante asked.

“You have no idea.” He mumbled. Deadpool let out a little chuckled and then let out a low breath in contentment.

“So, Spidey. How does it feel to be a wanted man?” Oh God. The Avengers. He didn’t want to think about it.

“How did you rescue me?” He asked instead, ignoring the other’s question. He was curious. It seemed like an impossible task to escape at the time. It had felt like he was some sort of criminal, needed to be taken down and hunted like a dog. No way out, no matter how fast he ran. He couldn’t suppress a shudder at the memory.

“Well, I had some help from our favourite devil!” Deadpool exclaimed, looking excited to tell the story.

“Daredevil?” Peter asked uncertainly. Sure, he had met the guy a few times during his few visits to Hell’s Kitchen but they weren’t even friend! Why would the other get himself into the Avengers bad list because of him?

“Yup! We kicked some serious Avenger butt together! He took down Hawkeye and I made Captain America and Iron Man my bitches!” The Spider snorted.

“Okay, I think that I have to ask DD for what happened since you are clearly not gonna tell me the truth.” Peter accused.

“Swear on my life, Webster! That’s what happened! Ask him if you want to! Oh, plus, this reminds me that I used up half of your Web Fluid.” He said leaning his head back further so that he was looking at where his eyes were supposed to be behind the hood and the mask.

“For what? Did you swing?” The Spider asked, forming a weird image in his head of Deadpool swinging around with his Web Shooters.

“No, but now that I think about it, I should have. It would have been legendary!” He thought out loud, forming the image in his head as well. They both burst out giggling for a second.

“So, anyways, I rammed the Web Fluid can into the opening in Tin Man’s armour and broke it with a knife! It was glorious! I don’t really stick around to gloat but it looked like he was stuck there for a while!” The ex-merc told him.

Peter let out a fit of laughter. That was a genius idea. It was sad that he didn’t think of it when he had a chance.

“Then I poked Cap with one of those arrows and by the time I was done, Hell Boy had taken Katniss out!” He exclaimed.

The other was making it sound so easy. Like, wake up, eat breakfast, then fight a few Avengers. Maybe take a walk in the park afterwards? He shook his head.

“They’re not going to stop looking for me, are they?” He asked in a sombre voice.

Deadpool picked up on his darkened mood and took up a more serious tone, too. “Probably not...”

“Now they might come for both of us.” It was true, that was more than likely to happen.

“Okay, General Spidey! What’s our war plan?”

“Laying low?” That sounded like the most logical thing to do. No, more like the only thing left to do.

“Sounds good.” He sounded nervous. It was unsettling to hear his cheery attitude make such a turn. “Only patrol around Queens, okay? And always have me with you.”

“Yes, mom.” He joked trying to make the heavy atmosphere go away. “I’m serious, please be careful.” Deadpool spun himself around in his sitting position on the floor and turned to face him. He reached out a hand and remove the hood from his eyes. “Promise.” His voice was urgent. It was so unlike his Deadpool that he could tell that his friends wasn’t taking this lightly.

Peter moved his own hand out from underneath the hoodie and extended his pinky finger out towards the older man. Without hesitation, Deadpool hooked the finger with his own. “Promise.” He whispered. They shook on it. It was so childish but they both took it dead seriously.

Deadpool’s demeanor changed in an heartbeat and his voice had it’s characteristic cheer back. “Okay, so if I get captured and experimented on, and you manage to get away. Then go to my bedroom, look under the floorboards under my bed and find a black suitcase, DON’T LOOK INTO IT, and throw it into a river.” The Spider looked at him with a blank expression. They stared at each other for a moment before falling into a fit of hysterical laughter.

When they calmed down again Deadpool added. “No, but seriously, get rid of it!” Peter shook his head. He didn’t want to know.

It was so easy to talk to Deadpool. No matter how inappropriate or strange the older man could get, it was always certain that he could be relied on.

Suddenly, it seemed so simple. They were detached from the rest of the world. Other people’s views and opinions didn’t have an impact on them. All that was real at that moment was their casual banter and mutual trust in each other.

He knew that this moment of simplicity couldn’t last forever. The others like it didn’t. But still, he wanted this precious bubble in time to last as long as possible, or at least have as much importance as possible.

Deadpool seemed to realise that he wasn’t whole heartedly in the conversation so he stopped talking and let him finish his thoughts.

He lifted a shaky hand and slid it under his mask. The ex-merc let out a strangled noise when he started lifted the mask off of his face, revealing his nest of brown, unruly hair and milk chocolate eyes. Not that the fabric was that thick but the cold air hitting his face was a relief.

The bigger man was gawking at him with wide eyes. It looked like he was just going to keep staring but as if a trans had been broken, he snapped out of it but still looked like.. well, like someone who walked onto a wrong movie set. “Why? You were always so careful!”

“Well, I suppose I was too lazy to keep it up.” He said mocking Deadpool’s earlier explanation. “Name’s Peter Parker.” He introduced himself as the other vigilante still drank up his features. The Spider forced his anxiety down. He was just looking and wouldn’t judge you, he told himself. However, nervousness could not be avoided. This was more than your average stranger, bully or a teacher studying him. This was his first, best and (if we’re being honest) only friend seeing him for the first time.

A part of him knew for certain that Deadpool wouldn’t look at him any differently because of his age or anything else. It was more than likely that the older man had been nervous about showing him his scars as well. Now they could both pass the test of each others approval. At least that’s what he hoped was going to happen.

“In that case, I’m Wade Wilson.” He shifted for a moment then pouted. “Damn it! I should have kept my mask on and then I could have ripped it off at this perfect moment right now! I’ve always wanted a climactic reveal! Oh well, maybe in one of my other nine lives...”

“Nice to meet you, Wade.” Peter said while a bright smile graced his lips. He had hoped that he would learn the other’s real name some day. It was endearing to be trusted with something like this.

“Well, nice to meet you too, Pete!”

The Spider rolled his eyes playfully. “Peter, not Pete.”

“What was that, Petey-Pie?”

“Nothing, Mr Wilson.” He quipped back.

“Ooooh, please don’t pull your formality crap on me!” Wade gasped and feigned a pained expression.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry.” He said while settling himself onto the couch more comfortably. This had gone better than he expected. The other didn’t even mention... Okay, now he was uneasy again.

“Anything else you want to say?” Peter asked while avoiding looking at the ex-merc sheepishly.

“Nope, just shocked, that’s all.”

“Then maybe I haven’t been as careful as I had hoped..” He sighed, realising that the other had probably known more about him than he had let on.

Wade let out a small laugh “Listen, you did as good of a job as you could but when we first met, there were a few _weird_ things I noticed about you. Like the fact that you barely hade an Adam’s apple, you look tiny (I mean, not to offend you or anything but you don’t even reach my shoulders) and sometimes you just plainly act like a ten year old. How others haven’t figured it out yet is beyond me.”

The way the other said it made it sound like the most obvious thing in the world. “Is this why you first started helping me?”

“Only partially. I thought that I would just offer once off help that you would reject but you actually believed that I could be helpful. And just about after your first 'everyone can make a change and they should be the change they want to see' speech, I was pretty much set on sticking with you.”

“That doesn’t make sense..”

“Sure it does!” Wade captured his eyes and held his gaze. “No one else has ever believe that I could be better so you made me better. Plus, your most likely the only person who could stand me for more than five minutes without going mad so you’re stuck with me, baby boy! Deal with it!”


	11. Damn These Ears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry about the slightly short chapter...

Peter liked to think of himself as an expert on evading cameras. Ever since the 'avengers incident' where he slipped up, he’d been extra paranoid. Wade was good at it too, being an ex-merc and all, but sometimes he had to yell at him to stop when he was just a few feet away from walking out of a blind spot.

As promised, he’d only been patrolling around Queens. No further. And Wade was always clued to his side, even when doing something as tedious as stopping a bike thief. He joked that the older man was being too protective but on the inside he found security knowing that he was with him.

The cheap thrill that he always got when he went out on a patrol was replaced with the cold grasp of fear. Did he just hear thrusters in the distance?! Was that an arrow flying through the air?! He expected to be jumped and ambushed at every second. He wasn’t anywhere near optimistic enough to believe the he would get away for the second time.

They’d lock him up in a cell and poke him until he revealed his name. Then leave him there and probably do the same to Aunt May as well. A little twitch of phantom pain spiked up in his leg at the horrid thought.

The paranoia never left him in his civilian time as well. May knew that something had to be going on for him to jump at the slightest of touches and sounds. It was just like the first month after he got his powers all over again. His Aunt would be concerned and he would try, without much success, to assure her that everything was just dandy. It never was anymore.

Wade’s presence helped to ground him.

After they revealed their names and faces to each other, they had been as close as ever. Peter had feared that the exact opposite would happen and the other would be uncomfortable around him but life managed to surprise him. He just wished that Wade could be there when he woke up hyperventilating and crying at night. Shoving his fist into his mouth to prevent the sobs, that he so desperately wanted to release, from waking up May...

“You ready, Pooly?” He asked when he remembered that they were supposed to stop a jewellery heist across the street but had wanted to assess the situation first from far. Just to be safe, you never know. He must have zoned out again.

“I was ready yesterday!” He yell-whispered and jumped into action before Peter could get another word in.

* * *

 

It was raining and he hated it. The endless splattering of drops after drops of water made his usually dialed up sense start twitching with discomfort. If it was particularly heavy pour outside, like it was right now, then the sound would wear away at his ears until they were sensitive to the gentlest of sounds.

Plus, his suit was completely soaked and the windy air made him shiver. All the more reason for him to complain.

Wade had took notice of his sorry state and told him to scram home and hide under his covers because 'even bad guys don’t want to be out in this weather'. So that’s where he was crawling. The idea of his warm bed made him move faster.

He was near his apartment. It was only a few blocks away and his bag should be there somewhere.. Oh! He spotted the trashcan that covered his backpack from view. Peter released a pitiful sound when he lowered himself onto the ground and saw that it was entirely wet. He should have but it _inside_ the pin! Now his homework was ruined and several of his copies...

The moody state that he was in worsened and he slung the bag onto his back. ‘You're almost home, don’t sulk.’ He reminded himself and kept going.

A scared scream broke through the harsh rhythm of the rain and made him tense up. He froze half way up a wall and turned his head to the side, listening intently. Every hair on his body standing on its end. His head tilted towards the direction of his house, longingly, but he started moving towards the fearful shrieks that kept coming.

As they got louder, doing nothing good for his ears, he saw that they sounded from an abandoned building. It looked unstable and right about to be knocked down. As far as he knew, only a few boys looking for an adventure and some excitement had ventured in a few times. They had been there recently if the fresh graffiti on the front was anything to go by.

Maybe one of them had fallen through the rotten wooden floor. But it sounded way too serious for that to be the case. Plus, the voice was slightly feminine which made him doubt it is well.

Most of the cracked windows were sealed closed by planks but two weren’t. His Spidey Sense tingled slightly when he neared a creaked open window and he hesitated before crawling in. It wasn’t the 'you are about to die, MOVE!' tingle, more of a ‘beware, muhahaha!' tingle. Yes he had names for them. Shut up.

He stayed firmly on the ceiling as he sneaked towards the screams that were still coming strong. It made him anxious to his stomach. His Spidey Sense buzzing made everyone worse and added a nasty suspense into the air.

The house was dark and empty, only a few pieces of broken down furniture here and there. Hundreds of tiny, dusty spider webs lithered the ceiling and, strangely, made him feel a little better.

The volume of the terrified screams increased as he approached a wide open door. It sounded like whoever it was, was behind that door. His Spidey Sense was still at the back of his mind whispering warnings. Someone needed his help though...

He braced himself for the worst and, as quiet as a mouse, crawled into the room. It was almost pitch black in there but as soon as he entered, he knew something was wrong and his blood froze.

Whenever he was near someone he could hear their breathing, heartbeat and whatever movements they were making. Even though the screams were loud, he should have been able to hear something else that indicated that another living thing was in the room with him. _Shit_.

Peter did a one hundred and eighty decree turn towards the door and his Spidey Sense screeched. There was a sharp noise in front of him and the door slammed shut. He jumped down from the ceiling and started pulling at the handle when a blinding light lit the room. It was so bright that when he closed his eyes and covered them with the palms of his hands, they still stung. Every fibber of his body told him to run.

He heard a soft clicking noise somewhere else in the room which forced him to open his eyes to see what it was, ignoring how they burned. At first it was impossible for him to see something but then he mode out two huge speakers on each side of the small room. He was only allowed a moment to let his stomach trop and his pained eyes to widen before his world descended into agony.

A deafening boom flew out of both of the speakers at the same time and he felt as if his ears were being torn apart. Vibrations filled the air that were loud enough to make a normal person wish they never had ears. He fell to his knees and let out a tortured scream. It _hurt_. God damn it, it hurt so much. He didn’t ever remember feeling this much all at once.

The lights on the ceiling flickered and were durned off and on again in a lightning quick flashes to mess with him further.

He wanted to fight, to kick the door, to do anything to escape. His vision crew blurry and he couldn’t decide if he wanted to cover his ears or eyes more so me wrapped his arms around his head and fell to the floor. Curling in on himself. He let out pained whimpers and cried for help that he knew wouldn’t come. It was beginning to get hard to breathe.

Peter couldn’t keep the painful sob that tore it’s way out of his throat. He wanted it to end. He wanted to go home. He wanted Wade and Aunt May. The pain kept flooding his head and he sobbed without control. Tears flew freely from his eyes and just managed to make him feel more confined than before. It had to end. It just had too. He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t think about anything else other then the pain and he wasn’t even aware of his surroundings anymore, let alone what was happening. When unconsciousness claimed him, he didn’t protest. He welcomed the darkness that crossed his vision and prayed that it would take the pain away. His jerky squirming come to an end and he fell limp curled up on the floor.

**

“Told you it would work, Nat.” Tony announced as he and the rest of the team, that weren’t on the field, stared at the screen and saw Spider-Man fall slump on the floor. “He’s out cold.”

The speakers stopped blasting sound and Natasha opened the door to see the figure in red and blue suit curled up and passed out. She moved towards him and hooked his hands inside a pair of cuffs that closed with a satisfying click. They were made of vibranium and everyone was confident that they could hold the vigilante. Then her attention ran over the rest of his body and spotted the crimson patch around his ears that barely stood out from the rest of his red mask.

She durned to Clint and pointed at the injury. “I think we might have over done it. He's bleeding.”

“What matters right now is that we have him. Bring him over to the infirmary and Bruce can look him over, right?” Tony said, though he sounded a little nervous. Bruce nodded.

It had been Tony’s idea. He saw Spider-Man react to any loud noises negatively and him and Bruce thought that he must have heightened senses so he devised a plan to lure him into a trap and send him into a sensory overload. It was supposed to weaken him not knock him out so fast. He must have even more developed senses than they thought. They based that room on what would be hard for Steve to handle since they had somewhat similar enhancements, minus the wall climbing.

“We’re on our way.” Said Clint as he squatted down to pick the vigilante up. The guy was as light as a feather, he realised, and threw him over his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you with rainbows, sprinklers and unicorns on top for all the support I've been getting! :)


	12. Exposed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! A BIG thank you for everyone who has supported the story! Every comment I've read has but a smile on my face. Also, sorry about the long wait, I will have to post new chapters less frequently now cuz I'm back to school now and I have less free time, so sorry. Anyhow, enjoy! (And have a good day) :)

Clint flopped the unconscious vigilante down onto the examination table and the team instantly gathered around to get a better look.

Blood had stopped seeping from his ears half way to the tower and was semi-dry. He hadn’t woken up yet, only stirring around a pit. Unconsciously trying to paw his hands around his head in protection but being stopped by the cuffs around his wrists.

It was hard to believe that one of the biggest heroes in the world, one that thousands of people admired for his courage, could be reduced to that small figure in front of them. He seemed to feel their eyes, even in his sleep, and curled in on himself as best as he could in his restricted movement.

It made them shift uncomfortably. Not that it was their fault. They had to know who he was for everyone’s safety. He had only made it hard on himself by refusing to cooperate.

“So, ready to see who our ‘friendly neighborhood pain in the ass' is?” Tony asked in attempt to lighten the mood.

“Do the honours.” Said Natasha curtly. “This is what that hole wild goose chase had been about.”

Tony nodded and slowly, almost cautiously, stepped closer and slithered two fingers underneath the hem of the mask. Everybody watched intently as he dragged the mask off.

A few unison gasps filled the air. Everyone froze. No one dared to breathe.

They stayed like that for a long moment, taking in the youthful features of the newly exposed face of Spider-Man. Well... man was just a general term. The vigilante in front of them was just a boy. A child. With dampened brown hair that stuck to his face. He didn’t look old enough to be out of high school.

“Holy shit.” Steve was too shocked to tell Tony ‘language'.

“What the hell, how old is he?” Clint whispered. No one answered.

Slowly, they snapped out of it and started shifting in their positions, looking rather pale.

Tony whipped out his Starkphone and took a picture of the boy’s face. “JARVIS, run the facial recognition scan.”

“Of course, sir. It might take several minutes.”

Thor seemed confused by his friends reactions. “What is the problem? We discovered the Man of Spider's identity. Wasn’t that what we were striving for?”

Spider-Man let out a quiet whimper and crunched his face up in discomfort at the loud voice. Thor faltered a little and made a mental note to keep his voice down near the child.

“Can’t you see how young he is? That’s the problem!” Tony almost shouted, trying to calm himself.

“On Asgard children are encouraged to learn to fight from early on. It is our belief that bravery has no age-limit.” He said in a lowered voice.

“Things work differently around here. Kids aren’t supposed to risk their lives out there.” Steve tried to explain. Thor didn’t quite understand the severity of their worries. As far as he had seen, people of Midgard were just as protective of their young as Asgardians were. He supposed that Midgardians had to be more mindful of their heirs because of their fragility but Man of Spider should not be the case. He was physically more capable than his people and fought like a true warrior.

Seeing his team’s distress made him think that this was a bigger deal to them, so he decided to keep his opinion to himself.

The tense silence returned. Everyone waiting for JARVIS to finish.

Tony was fidgeting with the phone in his hand while sitting calm(ish)ly.

Natasha was leaning against a wall. She didn’t let any signs of anxiety show but who knew what to look for saw a tension in her shoulders that normally wasn’t there.

Steve was staring into space with his eyebrows furrowed. Deep in unpleasant thoughts.

Clint stood still but looked like he would rather climb up into one of the air vents and wait there, in his comfort zone. He stalked forward and pulled the wet backpack from Spider-Man’s shoulders. It was plain black and a little worn. The archer stepped backwards and set it on a table. Then zipped it open and began rummaging through its contents. No-one really paid him any mind.

Bruce inched closer to the child and took a look at his ears. They made him wince. The bleeding had stopped, which he took as a good sign, but they still looked red and sensitive. He considered covering them with a bandage to give them some rest when JARVIS spoke up.

“I found a match, sir. The individuals name is Peter Benjamin Parker.”

“Okay, pull up everything you can find on him.” So the face had a name now. A screen beside them started filling up with links and information. Tony started to sift through it while rambling out loud.

“Lines in Queens with his aunt, May Parker. Parents and Uncle deceased. Goes to Midtown High... Is fucking fourteen years old.”

“Oh god.”

“Well, that explains it.” Clint said, holding up a bunch of soaked school books. They looked a little too advanced for a fourteen year old but admittedly, he didn’t know much about the school system.

“Is he.. is he going to be alright?” Steve asked looking increasingly more uneasy. He turned to face Bruce and gave him a questioning look. The scientist cast a last calculative glance at the damage before answering.

“He look’s mostly fine. Just exhausted. The simulation to his senses was too much for them to handle. They will undoubtedly cause pain and need to be rested for a week or so. I'm guessing that he will be unconscious for a day or two at most. But we don’t know enough about his metabolism to be sure.” Bruce explained to the rest of the team.

“Yeah, that’s just one more thing we have to know. How the hell would a fourteen year old get superpowers? Just what to kids these days do on their free time.” The mechanic muttered. “You think it would be best if we cover his ears somehow? Might make for a better rest.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I was thinking.”

* * *

 

There was a distinct throbbing that ran across his head and ears. The kind that could not be ignored and yearned attention every second it stayed. Peter let out a whimper and shifted stiffly. Something rubbed against his ears painfully. He cracked his eyes open a millimetre and thanked whatever power was up there that the room was mostly dark.

His eyes moved around, not really taking anything in. The realisation hit him that it was his own hands that were pressed tightly against his head. He peeled them away as gently as he could but the change still send a new wave of pain to his ears.

Everything in his body was hurting in some way. It reminded him of that time almost two years ago when he first got his spider powers. He tried to concentrate on the smaller aches rather than the torture in his ears. He pulled his hands into his chest and set his mind to them. There was a small nick on his left thumb that he didn’t remember getting and some bruises around his wrists, as if they had been held together by something strong.

Peter pushed out his legs from against his chest and a cramp-like tension hit them. Then he realised that his entire body was as stiff as a compressed spring. He uncurled himself very slowly, hissing in pain at every movement, and tried to think about why he felt like he had gotten mauled by a train.

He’d had a normal day, finished up his patrol with Wade and... _Oh god_. Oh god. Oh god.

For a moment all pain was forgotten, all there was was pure adrenaline. The Spider jumped up and properly took in his surroundings. He was in a dark room with only a faint light at the other side that illuminated the white walls and medical equipment around him. There was a faint smell of medicine lingering in the air. He tried to listen and the only sound he found was the quiet, almost non-existent, hum of the air-conditioner in the ceiling. Everything else was silent. Too silent.

A horrifying thought crossed his mind and his hands flew to his face. There were soft, very soft, bandages covering his ears (no wonder he couldn’t hear much) but other than that, it was just his face. His _bare_ face. Oh nononononono. His mask! They took his mask. He was completely exposed. Nothing to hide himself with. Stark probably had his entire life story running through his computers by now. He was done for.

What were they going to do to him? _Aunt May._ What were they going to do to _her_?

His breathing became more desperate. He had to go. He had to get out. _Now_.

A quick glance at his wrists confirmed his suspicions that his Web Shooters were gone. Franticly, he tugged at the soft bandages covering his head. He tore them off and threw them onto the floor. The sound of the air-conditioning system was clearer than before and he could hear something from behind him. Peter turned around to see a door in the wall. Presumably the only exit there was.

A few muffled voices reached him, they sounded about a few steps away from the door. His blood ran cold and the primal instinct of 'get away' won over his mind. Peter dashed up from the bed, shivering from the loss of warmth, and slid down under another one just beside the door. He curled into the cold wall and tried to stop himself from shacking.

The Spider knew the exact moment the door would be opening but it still made his heart pop in his chest when it slid open. Two pairs of footsteps walked in. His heart beat so loudly that he was sure he was going to pass out. A familiar voice, _Stark_ , commanded the lights to turn on. They did and he had to close his eyes for a second. He burrowed himself deeper into the shadowy space. A gasp could be heard. He tried to calm his breath to stay quiet and unnoticed but that seemed as impossible as stopping a moving train at that point.

“JARVIS, where the hell is he!?” Stark again. He winced. Why was he shouting? Why did everything have to be so loud? And who was JARVIS? It seemed like the perfect time to bolt. They had closed the door but he didn’t hear them lock it. Peter tried to will his body to move but he was frozen into place. He felt like he couldn’t breath, why couldn’t he breath? Just a moment ago he couldn’t stop breathing. He had to _get away._

“Under the bed closest to the door, sir.”

It felt like something really heavy was sitting on his chest, preventing him from taking a full breathe. What if he passed out? Would he suffocate to death in his sleep? He didn’t know, he couldn’t think. Why couldn’t he just _breath_?

Far away, as if he was underwater, he hear a voice talking. Peter didn’t understand what it was saying, all he could do is grip the fabric over his chest tightly and try to breath without any success.

A light shined down on him, making him cover his head with his arms again, wondering where the comforting shadows were. Someone’s strong hand landed on his shoulder. He flinched, still not comprehending what was happening and began to trash around. Second hand landed on him as well, holding him down. Two gentle voices were saying something. He wondered for a moment if they were talking to him.

_Can’t breath. Can’t breath._

Peter fought viciously against the hands trapping him. Maybe if he got rid of them then he could get rid of the pressure in his chest? They were strong, though, and managed to keep him down, seemingly without any effort. Whoever they belonged to must have been stronger than Wade. Funny, he thought no one was stronger than Wade. Wade. He wanted Wade. He wanted to be lying on his couch eating pancakes with him and laughing. He knew that he could make him breath again.

_Can’t breath. Oh god, it hurts._

In his musings, he didn’t notice that he had stopped struggling again. Peter was reminded of the intruders around him when he felt a small prick of something being bushed into his arm. He tried to kick with his legs but felt that they were held down too. He felt like crying in frustration, who knows, maybe he did. Suddenly, everything around him felt weirdly slow. His chest felt a little lighter, though. The Spider relaxed a little bit, gasping in air, and the big arms holding him down lost their firmness but were still there. There was that voice talking again and this time he could make out some of what it was saying. It was telling him to calm down, to breath. A hand started running through his hair and he couldn’t help but lean into the comfort.

He tried to follow the voice. The world seemed somewhat sluggish but that didn’t matter, he could breath again. Peter focused his eyes and looked at the person holding him. It took him a while to fix his eyes on the figure before him but once he did he felt a sense of familiarity. He had seen those kind blue eyes before. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out where but they put a uneasy feeling in his stomach. The feeling passed quickly and he labelled it as non-important.

His attention turned to the figure who was crouching down next to him. They both seem so damn familiar. The one with the blue eyes stood and pulled him up as well. Peter tried to stand on his own but stumbles and the other guy holds his shoulder with one hand and his waist with the other. He is lead to a chair and set down. The blue eyed one sits beside him, still holding his shoulder, and the other sits opposite them on the small table.

Then something snaps into place and he recognises the two. Stark and Rogers. He doesn’t know why he feels slightly panicked. Just didn't remember. It didn’t matter anyway. Where was he again, how had he gotten there? He was tired, was that why everything felt weird?

The hand on his shoulder pressed slightly, gaining his attention. He looked up at them. They were looking at him expectantly. Had he missed anything? He pouted trying to remember but gave up on the quickly and concentrated on listening. They smiled slightly at his pout.

“I asked, how are you feeling?” Rogers asked almost tenderly.

It took him a moment to remember how to use his mouth. “Mh.. ehh... We-weird?” He slurred.

“Sorry about that, but it was necessary. We were wondering if you could answer a few questions for us? Just a few, don’t worry.”

“And only ones you are comfortable with.” Rogers said, while giving Stark a pointed look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Wade will be there to kick some ass later on ;)


	13. Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!!! Sorry that this one took so long!

Wade didn’t know what to do.

He’d been waiting there for an hour and Spidey still hadn’t shown up. He let his eyes wonder around the street for what felt like the thousandth time. No red and blue costume. No sound of someone gracefully swinging through the air. No Peter.

Maybe he forgot to come? No, no that was unlikely. Peter was always so dutiful about his patrol and Spider-Man. He’d even be here when he was half dead. There had been many (too many) occasions when he had to drag Spidey back home because he was injured or too tired. The boy just didn’t know how to look after himself properly.

He would actually be proud of Peter if he were to take a day off on his own without him forcing him to do so. But he knew Spidey would not have just blown him off like that, without any warning, he was too much of a good guy. So much better than him... He just didn’t swing that way (pun intended).

What if something happened? What if the Avengers (those stuck up sons of bitches) found him? He could be interrogated at the very moment.

He couldn’t stand it anymore. The twisting worry in his stomach. Before he could go and assume he decided to do this crazy thing called asking.  
  
His hand slipped into his pocket and pulled out a phone. Peter had a secret phone that his Aunt didn’t about. It was strictly for emergencies (and some meme exchange). Wade listened intently as the itsy bitsy spider song played, not even trying to stop himself from humming along, despite the tension.

The call went to voicemail and he let out a curse (hey, what Spidey didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, right?).

Peter was in trouble. Something happened and he had a pretty good idea of who was behind it.

* * *

 

Steve didn’t know what to do.

There had been a bundle of pent up anxiety deep inside him as soon as he saw that young face. Clearly in pain (the pain that they had caused, oh god-) but unable to wake up due to sheer exhaustion. Slightly twitching, like he believes he was still in danger.

That horrible feeling only grew, wanting to explode, and all he could see was Spider-Man (Peter, he corrected) lying on a the hospital bed, clawing at his covered ears while trying to curl in on himself.

The shock was lingering at the front of his mind because it wasn’t everyday that you find out that one of the world’s great heroes is just a kid. More importantly, who the hell decided that letting a child run around and fight crime was a good idea?

A spark of anger stirred that trail of thought along in his head. What the hell had he been thinking? Putting his life at risk, there were so many occasions where he could have died, where he could have gotten fatally injured, some where he _had_ been injured. Did someone put him up to this? That wasn’t likely, if following the kid around for days had proven anything. He was always so quick to jump into danger, never even thinking twice about it if there was someone in danger.

The twinkle of anger disappeared as soon as he realised how hypocritical he sounded. A chuckle wanted to escape from his throat as he was brought back to his younger days when all he had been was a scrawny, little punk from Brooklyn that had to be dragged out of fights that he was too stupid to back down from. 'This must have been what Bucky was feeling all the time.’ Steve mused.

‘No Bucky would have had it worse,' He decided, ‘He didn’t just watch a stranger throw himself into harms way, he watched his best friend do it.’

Steve sighed as he remembered how Bucky had always backed him up in said fights, and wondered if Peter had anyone to watch his back. The first thing that came to mind was Deadpool and he immediately wanted to forget about it but there was no denying it. The way that the older vigilante was clued to Peter’s side and would stand protectively around him, like if he could, he would hide him from others. That all pointed to him knowing who Spider-Man really was, too. It wouldn’t have been all that surprising.

This wasn’t supposed to turn out to be so complicated. The mission was simple: catch Spider-Man, find out his secret identity and make him register in S.H.I.E.L.D. Then, when they conclude that he wasn’t a threat (which everyone on the team was sure of after watching him in action for a month), let him continue on with his thing. Maybe call him along on a mission, every now and then, if there was a need.

But nothing was ever so simple, so why did he expect this to be? Spider-Man was a kid, a child, for god’s sake- There was no way S.H.I.E.L.D. would let him continue with Spider-Man, no sane person would. No matter how capable he was (and oh he was) it would be immoral.

Steve had heard a lot about child soldiers, Nat had been one. All those stories were revolting, always making his gut wrench. It didn’t matter that Peter was doing it on his free will, no one that young (fourteen, only fourteen) should decide on something like this. The kid simply hadn’t seen enough of life to put his at risk like that. Was his guardian at home right now, worrying about him? Did she even know what her nephew was doing on his spare time?

Guilt chewed at him as he remembered wrestling the kid down and watching him get slammed into a wall by a blast. The image of him curled up on the ground, head buried in his arms and screaming his heart out, was glued to the surface of his mind.

The elevator was silent as it descended downwards. They had placed him in the medical room that they used for batching themselves up after missions, so it was still on one of the top floors, near theirs, but it felt like the elevator went forever. Steve couldn’t stop himself from shuffling nervously as sick anticipation twisted his gut.

Tony didn’t look any better, either. The billionaire was used to having people watching him, so even if he felt uncomfortable, he could slip into a carefree stance. After living under the same roof for so long (how long had it been already? Two years? Three?) he picked up his telltale signs of restlessness. Like the way he kept fidgeting with the phone in his hand, or how the silence hadn’t been broken yet by a sarcastic remark, or how his eyes had more of a faraway look. The last one wasn’t exactly new, the genius always got hit by random ideas at random times and was often lost in thought. This seemed more important, he hadn’t even acknowledged for a second since they stepped into the elevator.

Steve supposed that he understood. Hell, even he had a hard time believing that such a little guy could fight and take down supervillains.

A light ding sound emitted from the elevator and they stepped out.

“You ready?

“How can we make this better?” Tony turned to him sharply and looked straight into his eyes.

“We apologize, explain ourselves, hope he understands and offer help.”

“Sounds easy, the way you say it.”

Yeah, it did. Didn’t it?

They both braced themselves and he pushed the medical wing door open. He closed it behind him, just in case. The room was big and the only light was at the far corner, they figured that Peter would appreciate it if there wasn’t much strain on his eyes. “Lights.” Tony murmured.

His gaze found the bed where they had left him, and froze. He could hear a loud gasp from Tony followed by, “JARVIS, where the hell is he?!”

He searched the room with his eyes but couldn’t see an immediate place to hide. Everything seemed too exposed.

“Under the bed closest to the door, sir.” Came the calm as ever reply.

They spun around and looked at the bed a few feet away from them. He lowered himself to the ground and came face to face with a heart breaking sight.

The spiderling was curled up on his side, pressing himself tightly into the wall behind him. He was clutching the front of his suit with one of his hands, mouth slightly open and trying to whizz air in but unable to do so. Fear and pain were written all over his face, Steve could practically hear his thoughts, ‘ _compromised, compromised_.’

“Tony, he’s having a panic attack.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” The mechanic whispered furiously, having crouched down as well. “What to we do?” He asked looking a little panicked, too.

“Why are you asking me?” He said, raising his voice a little. Peter let out a desperate choking noise, and they were right back on our feet.

Steve lifted the bed up with ease and set it aside with as little noise as possible. The Spiderling whimpered at the bright lights hitting him and buried his head into his shacking arms. Steve muttered a silent sorry and, after an awkward moment of hesitation, brought a firm hand to Peters shoulder. The kid flinched bodily at the contact and tensed up, even when he started rubbing circles on his shoulder and whispered comforting words.

He began to trash around, trying to wriggle his tiny body out of the way. The sight reminded him of an injured puppy, who hissed at everyone, even those trying to help. The super soldier put his second hand on his chest to keep him still, his hold strong and sure but as gently as he could. Right now, lying on the ground before him, the kid looked so small and breakable.

Two of the biggest doe eyes he had ever seen looked in his general director, but you could tell that he wasn’t comprehending anything that was going on, just fighting invisible attackers.

Tony was beside him and was whispering soft words to the kid. Telling him to breathe and take deep breaths. He looked horribly strained, like he wanted to do more. It was no secret that the billionaire struggled with panic attacks in the past so it must have been hard for him to see it.

Peter wasn’t charmed by their antics and looked even paler than before. His movements were clumsy and sluggish but full of fight. If nothing changed, he’d pass out from the lack of oxygen.

Then, all of a sudden, his movements eased and he was looking into space with a far away look.

Tony took the opportunity and slide something out of his pocket. It was a needle, Steve realised. He didn’t have time to asked what it was, just watched as Tony slowly poked it into his arm. Peter's eyes widened and his struggle picked up where it left off, he squirmed and tugged with all his remaining strength. He tried to kick him off with his legs but Steve was pinning then down with his weight before he had a chance. Tears of frustration leaked into those brown eyes, making Steve’s heart clench.

Gently, Tony pulled the needle out. All of the jerks and pulls of Peter’s body seemed to lose their energy and slowed down once again. The kid's groggy eyes closed half way like he was sleepy, and inhaled air like he had never had the pleasure of breathing before.

He looked at Tony questioningly. “Bruce and I took a look at his DNA during the evening, and put together a sedative for him, just in case. We knew that he was enhanced but his systems bump everything out almost as fast as yours,” The genius said while starting to run a hand through Peter’s messy hair.

The teen surprised them by leaning into the touch. They gave him a few minutes to calm down and relax. Tony kept whispering soft things to him all the while, and Steve loosened his arms around him but didn’t take them away just yet.

Peter’s breathing evened out and the loud gasps for air quieted down. He opened his chocolate eyes that had been crunched shut and blinked around him. They landed on him and he gave a kind smile that he hoped was reassuring. The kid didn’t seem to recognise him and averted his eyes to Tony, who gently pulled his hand away, no recognition filled them there either.

They both stood up and he pulled Peter up with him. The boy tried to shift away from him to stand on his own but his legs were too heavy and he stumbled backwards. Steve grabbed him from his side before he could fall over and rested one of his arms to his shoulder and the other on his hip to support him.

Tony moved to a table a few meters from them and hauled a chair out. The super soldier stirred Peter towards the chair, practically carrying him, and sat him down so he was lying against the chair back.

The two Avengers took their seats, Steve beside the teenaged Spider and Tony on the other side of the table where he immediately started fidgeting with his phone. “So, how are you feeling,” It was probably a stupid question, Steve realised. After all, he had just been essentially kidnapped and didn’t look like he was having the best of time. Half of his bruises were gone, bit he still looked like the dead.

The kid’s head moved up slowly, groggily, and blinked at him, looking confused. He pouted as if trying to figure something out and being unable to. Steve wouldn’t admit it, but it was kind of cute. “I asked, how are you feeling?” He said soothingly.

Peter moved his mouth, like ciphering how it was supposed to work, before sputtering out, “Mh.. Ehh... We-weird?” His voice was raspy and cracked, each syllable was slurred like he was drunk. The two adults winced and Tony was right on his feet to get a bottle of water.

The billionaire was back with the water and placed it in front of the kid, who didn’t seem to notice it. “Sorry about that, but it was necessary. We were wondering if you could answer a few questions for us? Just a few, don’t worry.” Tony said, moving his chair closer.

“And only ones you are comfortable with.” Steve shot the other a look, this wasn’t supposed to be an interrogation.

“Yes, yes, okay, we promise,” The mechanic said exasperatedly. “Now, what can you tell me about those.” He pulled out Peter’s black backpack, two objects that he guessed were the kid’s Wed Shooters and an unusual looking phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next we will (probably) see what Wade is up to, and the Avengers will learn a little more about Peter. :)
> 
> Bye, rainbows!


End file.
